Double Trouble

It is a known fact that with all potentially adorable things, (puppies, kittens, babies, brownies) any more than one miraculously ups the cuteness factor. Exponentially I'd say. (Yes brownies are cute. I mean after all, how many times have you said to some roly-poly baby, "you are so cute I could just eat you up?" Well that's what I have often said in the same loving tones to ooey-gooey brownies, seconds before making good on my promise... you can after all put a brownie in your mouth and chew.)

We have recently noticed that on their own, our children are just regular, ordinary, average little boys. But put them together, and they turn into something else, so delicious (see... just like the brownies), I can hardly stand it.

I imagine this is what having twins or multiples of any kind is like. We all know that previous to the Jon and Kate divorce drama, no one was watching that show for Kate's acerbic comments or Jon's makeover via hair plugs and new ear bling. It was all those darn children drawing you in each week.... all the same cute age, all doing the same cutethings, and so impossibly sweet.... kinda of like a box of Krispy Kreme donuts.

But back to our boys of whom there are only two, not twins and just close enough in age that it's starting to get confusing for passers-by. Even more-so when they are similarly dressed, which is a habit from which I normally abstain, I will have to admit that sometimes it is beyond my powers to resist the lure of matching togs.

And this is why the other night, after I got them both into their jammies and their blue knit Joe cardigans (we LOVE Joe), and tucked them snuggly into their stroller for our nighttime family stroll, Gavan, silently taking in the augmented adorableness of our sons, turned to me finally and said,

"What... are you trying to kill me?"

Yes indeed. Killed by cuteness... it may be possible.

Killed by brownies? Much more likely.