This post is a quick rant about ingratitude. It’s a pet peeve of mine. My five-year old twin daughters showed a major lack of appreciation of twinness this week. Here’s how it played out:

Their camp ended and I registered them for a ‘filler camp’ of sorts – it’s a camp for kids whose parents work and don’t have vacation plans for the last two weeks of August. From the looks of the enrollment numbers at this camp, it appears that we are a very distinct minority.

When I walked them in to the camp for their first day, they became clingy. There were few kids around and zero kids or counselors that they recognized. They gripped my legs tightly and didn’t want me to leave.

What I wanted to say:

“Are you kidding me?! You’re twins! You have each other! None of these other kids have a sibling who is a direct peer with whom to weather the storm of first-day insecurity! This is where my job as a parent of twins is supposed to be easier than that of a parent of a singleton. The Twins Mom gets to walk out while her children play with each other; and it’s the Singleton Mom who has a sad child to comfort. The transition is supposed to be seamless for me!”(Pointing at my stomach): “See this? I had two of you in there at the same time, stretching it all out! Am I not supposed to get some good out of that permanent damage??”

Of course, I didn’t say that. Instead, I empathized with their first day jitters.

But, really, where is the appreciation for the fact that they have a same-age sibling? Where is that added feeling of safety and security all of the adult twin interviewees told me about? I’m not saying that my kids are entirely ungrateful, but I do wonder whether, with age, they’ll come to realize that they had an advantage at moments like these. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll say “thank you” — if not to me, to each other.