what planet are they from?
Uranus, i suppose, given the hillarity invoked by bums, poos and farts in our house. But that doesn't explain how my two Uranians can be so different. One would live her entire life eating nothing but white bread, yellow cheese and the fat off chops. The other wants chick pea salad please mummy with tomatoes, celery, cucumber and don't forget the red capsicum. And can i have some rye bread with hommous too? Weird. They cannot agree on one single foodstuff - whatever one loves sends the other into a paroxysm. Want some icecream? NO! You know i hate icecream i want a bowl of gherkins! huh?
And why is it that one cannot be at home and within minutes of waking up wants to know where we're going and what we're doing that day and who we're doing it with and here's the phone mum, ring someone up. Then revels cheerfully in the outing while the other one is mightilly pissed off at being dragged away from happy solitary playing in imaginary worlds at home - i hate the beach! Don't ever bring me here again!
What can you do hey? We're completely stuffed really and if it weren't so funny (as black comedy of course) it'd have us weeping into our beer.
Hmm beer ... there's a thought.