Miss Dun Dun

I’ve noticed that many parents of twins seem to categorize twins (their own twins and other twins) into two groups: twins who conspire together, and twins who don’t. The general consensus seems to be that conspiring twins are a blessing and a curse… Parents seem to both love and hate the idea of their twins working in mischievous concert together. On the one hand, part of the whole fascination and excitement and allure of twins is exactly that: their special mysterious bond together that is right at the surface when they act in instances of twin-mischief-conspiracy. On the other hand, no parent wants to be out-smarted or duped or ganged-up upon by their own children. One mother of young twins I know told me proudly about the annoying-yet-hysterically-funny things her conspiring twins do… such as hide important household items (and, at times, each other) in the washing machine. Another mother of young twins I know told me disappointedly that her twins “are not conspiring.” She said it was sad for her because that seemed to be part of the fun of having twins, and her twins just simply “aren’t like that.” I can see both sides of it. But if I go along with the whole categorization schema (which I’m not exactly comfortable doing– but I’m ‘gonna go ahead and do it right now anyway…) I definately, definately, definately have the conspiring type of twins.

I first noticed it when the boys were about 16 months old. Given that they both walked at 10 months (they took their first steps on the same exact day), and given how physically adept they naturally are, they were very mobile (and unusually capable of causing trouble) at a very early age. One day it got too quiet, and I went to find out what they were up to. I found the two of them upstairs in their bathroom. They were soaking wet, splashing in the toilet, flushing it repeatedly, and the toilet bowl was clogged and overflowing with every single bath toy the boys had (which was a lot!) shoved into it. I couldn’t even be mad about it — it was SUCH a sight! Another day, when they were 22 months old, again it got way too quiet, and I went to find out what they were up to. I found the two of them sitting on the floor of the laundry room amidst a big pile of cat food (they had emptied our bin of cat food onto the floor), eating it by the fist-full. Yes, it was gross. But I also ran to grab the camera before I did anything else. I knew even then that these boys were going to raise a ruckus in our lives (although then I hadn’t quite yet caught on to the “conspiring” vs. “non-conspiring” categorization schema), and I wanted to be able to show them photos of this day later on when they were 16-years-old-or-so (so I’d be able to tell them with photo documentation they were up to no good even way back when!). As I was off trying to find the camera they quickly began trying to “fix” it — and this is what I caught on film…

Anyway… the latest is that my little conspiring twins have begun to make up stories in cahoots and convince me that they are true when in fact they are entirely not. Yesterday when we picked them up at daycare we asked them who they had played with during the day, etc. They listed some kids and then some teachers — including “Miss Dun Dun.” Both of them very seriously told us that they had played with “Miss Dun Dun” at daycare. We hadn’t heard of her, but thought perhaps there was a new staff member. Then last night at supper they were again both talking at length about Miss Dun Dun. That she had patted them to sleep at nap, she had been there for lunch, she had taught Kyle the new song he was singing, she had given somebody a Time Out, etc. They started to giggle a bit at one point and we started to get the sense that they might be pulling our legs. We started to ask questions “Hmmm… Who is Miss Dun Dun?” “Did Miss Dun Dun pat you both for nap?”Etc. They started giving each other funny looks and giggling and smirking and then outright laughing as they were answering the questions. Braydon and I didn’t know what to think. By the end of it we didn’t know up from down (conversations with 2-year-olds are hard enough to follow– let alone when you’re not sure you’re talking about truth or fiction). Miss Dun Dun came up a couple of other times over the course of the evening, and I made a mental note to try to find out if there was a new “Miss Dun Dun” working at the daycare. This morning at drop-off I asked two of the teachers — completely innocently and sincerely — “Is there a new teacher here whose name is Miss Dun Dun?” Before they could even answer “No,” my knee-high twins were laughing hysterically together at their mother’s folly. They were laughing so hard, in fact, that in a semi-real/semi-dramatic scene they both threw themselves onto the floor rolling around laughing (just to add a little flair to the whole thing I’m sure!)… I explained the whole thing to the two teachers and we all (all five of us) got a good laugh. Yes, I have the conspiring type. Yes, they sometimes make me feel like a third wheel. But listen up my little bambinos: Just remember this (someday if you’re ever reading this)– At least in the beginning stages of all your conspiring twinship you were laughing with me not solely at me.