There's two to wash, There's two to dry; There's two who argue, There's two who cry. One's in the mud, Having a ball; The other holds a crayon... Another marked wall. Some days seem endless, My patience grows thin. Why did God choose me To be a mother of twins? The answer comes clear- At the end of the day, As I tuck them in bed And to myself I say... There's two to kiss, There's two to hug; And best of all, Thank You, God, for two to love.