Taking Henry and Jack out for a walk in the double stroller is a bit like taking a walk with a movie star. Or how I imagine taking a walk with a movie star might go. Some people gawk and stare. Other folks try to play it cool and simply nudge whomever they're with and raise an eyebrow in our direction. They may even whisper "Look. Twins!" on occasion. And for the most part, these people don't bother me.
But then there are the autograph seekers- those people who feel that Henry and Jack (and I, by extension) are public property and who are certain that we have nothing better to do than to have a chit chat about the joys of multiples. These are the folks who ask the questions I have come to dread: Are they identical? Do twins run in your family? Where did he get those blue eyes?
The inevitable question, no matter that both boys are dressed from head to toe in blue and blue, is "are they a boy and a girl?" And today, dear readers, when asked "Male? Female?" by a sweet old man with a strong accent, I answered, "A boy and a girl". It was only after the old man said "Good, good," did I realize my mistake.
I couldn't very well correct myself. I mean, what kind of mother doesn't even know the gender of her own kids? But I can't help but wonder what kind of response I would have gotten if I had said "Two boys".
"Oh. Not so good. Boy, girl is better."
