Boy, am I exhausted! How was your day?" Lillian Tate asked as she came in from the driveway and put down her briefcase. She sounds exactly like Mom, Caroline thought. "It was okay," she told Lillian. J.P. didn't say anything. Poochie grunted without taking his eyes away from the television. He was sprawled on the floor in front of the set. In their playpen, the babies gurgled and kicked. They had just woken from their afternoon nap and had had their diapers changed. Now they were each happily chomping with their two teeth on special baby cookies. Caroline could see that already they had gluey cookie crumbs stuck to the creases in their fat little necks. They were going to need baths again before they went to bed. Why on earth would anybody voluntarily have babies? Caroline wondered. It's just a lot of work and mess. Lillian went over to the playpen, leaned in, and made kissing noises at the twins. "Hi, Holly," she cooed. "Hi, Ivy. Did you girls have a nice day?" The twins answered her: gurgle, slobber, spit, burp giggle.
