It was a regular Monday afternoon, the twins and I arrived on our street from daycare. I carried Sophia while Lily decided to walk and jump over every line on the ground. All of a sudden Sophia wanted to mimic her sister, so I let both of them walk. I would rather carry them since I can control the walk and get to my building faster, but then I decided to stop being a paranoid father.
I have a record for being overly nervous with kids. After a minute or so my nerves got the best of me as Lily was running faster and pulling away from Sophia and me. My instincts took over and I picked up Sophia in a fluid motion without breaking stride and caught up to Lily. I asked her to give me her hand, she immediately declined my offer. I grabbed her hand anyways just because I had a feeling something might go wrong.
We approached a driveway to the building right before ours and a driver in a car noticed us and gave me the nod that it was OK to pass. As soon as we passed, Lily yells: “my baby”, she dropped her doll right in the middle of the driveway. All three of us witnessed Lily’s baby get crushed. I saw a devastated, shocking look in her face; then Lily yells: “bad car bad car” at least three times.
As soon as we enter our home both girls started yelling outside the window: “bad cars Lily’s baby”. I was happy because this tough time my twin daughters found a common bond and learned about team work.
Guest post by Mr. Hubby