Kids Night Out

Tuesday is sometimes our Denny's night out, not because kids eat free, but because we are surrounded by adults with other kids. We figure this is a safe place to eat out, because when LongRifle starts singing loudly "La, la, la" or and Pistol starts screaming at the top of her lungs demanding something or other, well, we just blend in.

More often than not, we spend a lot of our time answering the same questions, especially since Da'Gorgeouses are now interacting with others and drawing attention to themselves. Here's the list that I'm sure all twin parents are continuously asked and answering...
1) Are they twins?
2) A boy and a girl (this one is usally asked first because Pistol is still somewhat bald---nevermind the earrings in her ears, or the pink outfit she's wearing)? Two girls? Two boys?
3) How old are they?
4) Are they identical?

DrillSgt. and I are getting better at feeding the girls during our eating out adventures. Since we are both right handed, each takes a Gorgeous and sits her on our left. This way, we can somewhat keep a plate from flying off the table and still manage to shovel put some food in our own mouths. We figure we will finally be able to enjoy our meals once Da'Gorgeouses hit their teens. Of course by then, some other thing they do will probably give us heartburn.

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Many people meet the DrillSgt. and think he's a really serious guy, they've even used the term stoic to describe him. I will tell you that although he can be very intense at times, he has a GREAT sense of humor. This wonderful sense of humor is one of the MANY reasons that I married him. Here's what happened tonight...

DrillSgt. and I were talking tonight after we put Da'Gorgeouses to bed. He was at our kitchen table grading papers and I decided to sit next to him to write down my thoughts about the day. He was hard at work when he stopped to run his hands through his hair. With a hint of panic concern in his voice he exlaimed,

DSgt."Hey, there's more hair falling out! What's going on?!"

I look up at him to have this conversation. "Yeah, you're losing more hair, your bald spot is growing."

DSgt."I was noticing that. I looked in the mirror the other day and there's a HUGE bald spot back there! (then looking directly into my eyes with a straight face he says) How am I supposed to be a pimp with no hair?"

To which I replied without missing a beat. "Don't worry baby, pimps wear hats."

DSgt: breaks into laughter and gives me a high-five