World Class Somethings

"Are they competitive?" asked the lady who was about to teach my six year old twins to tumble. I just looked at her. "Seriously? They fight over who is going to brush their teeth first. So I guess the short answer would be yes." These two people have been duking it out for space (and my attention) in this world since they were in the womb. They had their feet in each other's face in my belly. I'm fairly certain that had each of them known the other was there, there would have been the first recorded prenatal fist fight. From the outside it would appear that the competition begins when they open their eyes in the morning and ends when they fall asleep, which is also a contest. One of them is jealous of the other one because she can always fall asleep faster than her sister. I used to wonder when this "ish" was going to end. Now I have decided that it's going to end when they are dead, and I'm sure whichever one dies first will have some sort of advantage.
This morning my husband called me to fill me in on the conversation that took place as they were heading to the truck. Actually, what he said was, "I don't know how we're going to do it, but if we can ever manage to harness this whole competition thing, we are gonna have two world class somethings on our hands!" I hope you are right dad, and if we are lucky they will pick something we are at least halfway interested in. Watch them be world champions in underwater basket weaving. Or curling. Fingers crossed.
Apparently the morning began with a foot race to the truck, which didn't start until one child was already half way there. With a thirty foot head start, she beat her sister, who was completely unaware that there was even a race going on, easily. This prompted her sister to inform her that she was a "dirty cheater." Attempting to diffuse the situation, my husband asked who was ready for the barrel race this weekend. "ME! ME!" This led to the next event. "Well, I yelled ME first! Ha! So I win." The other sister sat there for a moment, then replied, "Well, I still get to go. So who cares?' You do, my little princess, which is why your sister does the things she does. She knows how to play you like a fiddle, and until you figure out how to do the same, you are in for a lot of grief.
I have said before that, being an only child, I don't understand this whole death match competition thing. I just have to tolerate it because they live in my home. I have however, quickly learned the unwritten laws of sisterhood. The main one goes something like this, "I can say/do whatever I want about or to my sister. But if someone else does or says the same, I will kill them and get rid of the body, no questions asked." I consider myself extremely lucky that they will still tell on one another, which I know is soon coming to an end. Once they gang up on us, we've had it. But for the moment, they still take tremendous joy in seeing their sister get in trouble for any reason. One of them lands on my sh#t list and it's like an alarm bell sounds for the other one. The kissing of mom's butt will now begin! "I love you, Mommy, You're so sweet." Can't you just picture the angelic little face looking up at me?
Luckily, my BS meter still works quite well. I can detect this crap at twenty paces. Ooooh, she's in trouble. Here's a chance for me to get in good with mom! Nice try, my little cherub. I'm smart enough to know that you probably started this crap, she finished it and got caught. Rest assured, your turn is coming. But for now, I'm going to enjoy listening to one of you sing my praises. Hey, sometimes you have to take what you can get.