As far as I know, no one who matters ever said raising twins is easy. Sometimes, it's even harder when they're away at boarding academy with someone else theoretically raising them for you.  Donald Ray and Christi Faye were the two of my four who gave me the most headaches.

I had my reservations about sending them away to another state to go to school. They could manage to get into enough trouble at home with me there to keep an eye on them. Let them get that far out of reach, and the potential for problems was immense. Nevertheless, it was their senior year in high school, and this boarding school was about as strict as they get.

The male half of the pair had already ventured into the world the year before. Even though the school he attended was the one assigned for students in our church district, it was over 10 hours away by car. I had barely driven away from the campus, when my son discarded the class schedule I had so carefully worked out with courses he needed, to at least, give him a fighting chance of getting into college. The classes he substituted were an assortment of non-academic fun classes that would qualify him for nothing in particular. It was obvious he wasn't there to study, and I was furious with his advisors for allowing him to get away with it.

After two months away from home for the first time in his life, he was anxious to touch home base. During fall break, busses were provided to transport the students to their respective districts. As anxious as he was to get home, you'd think he would be there when the bus was ready to roll out. Not! My husband and I had figured he was about an hour into the ten-hour trip home when the phone rang. The shaken voice of our male heir came on the line to inform us he had overslept and missed the bus. As usual with most of the phone calls I got that year, it was a crisis situation, and he expected us to come up with an instant solution from our corner of the world. This time, luck was with him. The school policy was to call roll before heading out. Since someone had neglected their duty, the school was forced to fly him home at their expense. He arrived home several hours before the busload of exhausted students and was rather proud of himself for being so clever. It takes real talent to miss a bus.

Every time I heard from him after that, either he needed money, was in trouble or was about to embark on some caving or mountain climbing adventure. The school seemed to encourage the students to live dangerously. Somehow, he made it through the year without any lasting ill effects other than low grades, in spite of his chosen fun classes. Even so, my nerves were frayed, and I vowed to have him closer to home the following year. His twin sister, who didn't feel ready to go away at fifteen, decided he wasn't leaving again without her.

This time, we chose a closer school which wasn't a part of our district. Still, a hundred miles is out of reach of the apron strings, a lot of things can happen. In spite of the fact Don was the veteran, he was the one that the things generally happened to. He was a gymnastic star that year, and it wasn't unusual to see some part of his anatomy sporting a cast. Regardless of what was broken, he'd leave a cast intact just so long. By the time it has gotten wet a few times and started to itch and smell, he'd head for the woodworking shop to rid himself of the offensive bit of plaster, despite doctor's orders.

He was in "luv" that year. I can think of nothing that is more nauseating than the first time a guy falls hard for a girl. Rational behavior isn't even in the picture. One of his most bizarre accidents involved several crushed hand bones, the result of trying to run his fist through a metal door. The cause being that the dean had forbidden him to see his fair lady for a week as punishment for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The dean, realizing that blow was directed, at least symbolically, at him, considered sending him home for good.

His twin sister, comparatively, was having a relatively good year. Aside from the usual money and boy friend problems and the weird hyena shriek she had developed at the first hint of something amusing, all was going well. Graduation was only a week away, and we almost had it made. Then came another call from the school.

My daughter had stayed out of trouble just about as long as she could tolerate. No offense carried a stricter penalty at this school than that of a student daring to invade the sleeping quarters of one of the opposite sex. This was the rule she chose to violate. She and another friend decided, it would be a great sport to sneak into the room of a sleeping male student, seize his covers, yank them off, and yell "Trucking" and bolt from the room without being caught. The trick went off as planned, but word got out and someone squealed. Now, I was being informed I should come immediately to get my wayward daughter and take her home.

A hasty meeting of the staff convened. They decided perhaps expulsion might be too stiff a punishment since this was the first offense. Besides, you never know how a parent might react at seeing so much hard earned money escaping down the drain. Therefore, although she wouldn't be allowed to participate in any of the graduation parties and activities or be on campus, she could return for the actual graduation ceremony to receive her diploma. Under no circumstances would she be allowed to attend any of the other functions.

I was making arrangements to leave my job to go after my mischievous juvenile offender, when I got a call from the father of an off campus friend. "There's no point in you having to make that long trip," he said. "We'd be delighted to have her stay with us a few days." I considered his proposal and agreed, luckily for her, because I wasn't taking any of this too lightly.

Saturday night was class night, and at least one of our children was participating. Don had parts in several skits and an Elvis impersonation for the talent portion. Since Christi was banned from the campus, we went straight to the auditorium. The program was starting when we noticed a strange looking little old lady, wearing a long dress and pull down hat, enter leaning on her cane. She kept her head down to avoid eye contact with anyone and sat down quickly. It wasn't long before whispered messages were being passed from one student to the next. Heads turned and giggles erupted. Finally, I got wind of what was going on. My daughter, this time with the blessing and aid of her friend's delinquent father, was once again defying the school by masquerading as an old lady. I was horrified. I'm sure someone in authority must have learned of my daughter's latest escapade. Too many students were willing and anxious to tattle. I fully expected the diploma to be snatched from her grasp at the last minute. For the fact it didn't happen, I am truly grateful.

The following year, they went on to college and no, it didn't get that much easier, but gradually I got more seasoned. They're a long way from seventeen now, but they're still capable of providing me with amusing anecdotes to tell my grandchildren. If there's any justice out there, maybe somewhere in the future there will be twin grandchildren to whom I can tell those stories