I was serving dinner to two tired twins on Saturday night and one of them simply refused to listen to anything I had to say.

“Owen, can you please sit down on your chair while you eat?”

Owen gets up and runs around the table.

“Owen, if you don’t sit down on the chair right now, I am going to give you a time out.”

Owen gets onto the chair and then sits up on his knees, staring at me defiantly like, “HA HA You said sit down but you didn’t say on my butt!”

I responded simply with a command.

“Go to your room.”

As if I said, “I am going to feed you to a wolf and watch you get devoured and laugh maniacally while you get dismembered!” Owen threw himself down on the floor and screamed NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I had to stifle a laugh.

Instead I said, “It’s really simple, Owen. I told you to sit down. You didn’t listen. You get a time out, go to your room.”

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I picked him up, walked him to his bedroom, placed him gently but firmly on his bed and told him to calm down and come out when he was ready.

He continued to wail, heave and sob as I shut the door and made my way back to the table where the Currently Behaving Twin was eating his dinner silently.

“Thank you for sitting down in your chair, Riv,” I said. “Good work.”

One of my favorite things about their current stage of development is their constant need to verbalize every thought that comes into their head. They blurt out the most obvious observations in a way that I, as an adult, would never dream of doing.

“Owen is in a time out,” River informed me.

“Yes,” I agreed. “Owen is in a time out because he didn’t listen.”

River chewed thoughtfully for awhile on his hot dog, listening to Owen’s piercing screams from the nearby bedroom. He was clearly a bit concerned about his brother. And so, after a bit of a pause, he leaned over the table to me on his elbows and stage whispered, “I CAN HEAR HIM LOUDLY CRYING.”

“So can I,” I said. “Thank you for telling me.”

In the end, life worked out, as it always does. Owen returned to the table, wiping away tears,  sitting politely in his chair, scooping macaroni and cheese into his mouth, giggling as I performed my infamous “EAT YOUR SPINACH” routine, using a napkin pinched in the middle like a bow-tie. We ate chocolate cake and Milano cookies for dessert, they splashed in the bath as I sat on the rim of the tub with my feet in the water, tickling them with my toes.

We piled onto River’s bed and read some of my favorite childhood stories—Where the Wild Things Are and Miss Nelson Is Missing. I tucked them in snug as a bug in a rug, sang “You Are My Sunshine” while I picked up the toys littered all over the carpet in their room, tucking books back onto the bookshelf, cars back in the bucket, markers in the Art Supply Container, a neverending collection of little pieces and scraps of paper and plastic figurines and broken crayons. They were snoring and asleep before I could shut the light and tip-toe out.

I sat on the couch later, eating Indian food, chuckling to myself over River’s comment.

I CAN HEAR HIM LOUDLY CRYING.

I wondered what would happen if I used his technique throughout my day, if I simply and boldly declared every thought that crossed my mind.

To the woman next to me on the subway: SCRUNCHIES WENT OUT FIFTEEN YEARS AGO. FYI.

To the homeless man on the street: I WANT TO GIVE YOU MONEY BUT WHY ARE YOU SMOKING A CIGARETTE?!

To my co-worker who is always on the phone with her husband: I CAN HEAR YOU PLANNING DINNER FOR LATER. IT SOUNDS DELICIOUS. BUT THE SOUND OF YOUR VOICE MAKES ME WANT TO GIVE MY TWO WEEKS’ NOTICE.

To my boss: IS THERE ANY CHANCE OF ME BECOMING A FULL-TIME EMPLOYEE? EVER? BECAUSE I AM KIND OF OVER HAVING NO HEALTH BENEFITS. AND NO PAID VACATION. AND OH MY GOD WOMAN, I NEED A PAID VACATION. LIKE THE KIND YOU WIN ON WHEEL OF FORTUNE.

To the cashier who never charges me extra for soy milk: THANKS FOR MY COFFEE. ALSO, I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU.

To Peace Corps Guy I’ve Been Dating: YOUR DEODORANT SMELLS SO GOOD, IT’S ALMOST MORE APPEALING THAN THE FACT THAT YOU WERE IN THE PEACE CORPS. ALMOST. COME HERE. LET ME SMELL IT AGAIN.

To God: WILL I BE POOR FOREVER?

To Jesus: WILL I BE SINGLE FOREVER?

To The Holy Spirit: DOES THIS SKIRT MAKE ME LOOK FAT?

To Owen and River: I AM NOT ENTIRELY SURE I WILL LOVE MY OWN CHILDREN AS MUCH AS I LOVE YOU.

Love,

Laura