Thursday at the regular Pyromaniacs meeting, I met two girls named Cam-ee (ka-MEE) and Nikki (it turns out I was one letter off last time. I accidentally spelled it “N9kki.” My bad)
They were twins.
Now, before anybody calls me immature or infantile, let me add that I have never, ever– in my life– ever met twins before.
So I was extra cheerful, perhaps too much so. Ex_Cal says that I probably freaked them out… or at least that I freaked him out.
Ooopsie.
There’s something innately fantastic about twins. More than likely, however, it was just that I’d gotten my Oomph back. I’ll explain that next.
I’ve met triplets before. But they weren’t really entertaining. And they were guys.. which doesn’t help my argument any, I know, but hey. All I can do is swear that I think my fascination is innocent. Whether you believe it or not is up to you.
Okay. Fine. Call me immature, I don’t care. You’re a doody-head anyway.
