Having twins is like having a sign on your back that read’s “Come chat and ask me all the personal questions you can think of.”
Everyone wants to stop (and stare).
Like it wasn’t hard enough to get out the door in the first place, stopping to change four nappies (a bit too regular), take the right Thomas trains, grab the book with the picture of a doughnut, get the naked baby doll, not the fully dressed one, pack a bag of snacks for a small army, fill the water bottles, pack the nappy bag, shuffle them both to the car without one doing a runner, that I then get to the shops only to be stopped every few minutes by a complete stranger.
Don’t get me wrong. When I have the time I love a chat. But as a working mum, my time is limited, and my to do list is long. Sometimes I just want to get in and get out. You know what I mean.