Something that I left out of my post two days ago, the one about rocks, Kathryn, and the words she contains, is that all that talking I did to her made her a genius.
Once, as a three-year-old, she came to me with a question. She asked me why half of our front yard was wet and half of it was dry. Before I could answer, she said, "Is it because the wet part is in the shade and the dry part is in the sun?" and then "and the sun made the water warm and it turned into a vapor and it went up to the sky?"
I don't talk to the twins. Unlike Kathryn, they were born into a different time. With Kathryn, I talked to retain my sanity. Now, the only thing that has any hope of preserving what sanity I have left is silence. So for four years, the twins have been left to fend for themselves.
Which is why, the day after Kathryn collected so many rocks and put them on our porch a few months ago, the twins went to each other for an explanation:
"Where did all these rocks come from?" one asked. Don't ask me who it was. I still can't tell them apart and at this point it's kind of embarrassing to ask.
"Well," said the other, thinking it over. "Sometimes it just rains rocks."
"Oh yeah. Sometimes it does."
I think I need to talk to the twins more.