Two fraternal twin infant sisters are on the floor of their parents' bedroom. One -- the smaller one -- is laying on her back. The other is laying on her tummy beside her, head up and looking over at her.
AMY: C'mon, roll over.
AMY: You can see more from up here.
GRACE: Because you're like, what, 4 inches higher off the ground than me?
AMY: Four inches makes a difference. Maybe the air is cleaner up here and that's why you're always getting sick and I'm not.
GRACE: That's not really fair. I had RSV. My lungs are naturally weak now.
AMY: I was exposed to RSV, too.
GRACE: Yeah, but you've always been bigger, so that's why you probably didn't get it. You're bigger, I'm cuter. That's how it's always been.
AMY: Who says you're cuter?
GRACE: Everyone does. It's probably my soft, unblemished skin. Yours is rougher and all blotchy most of the time.
AMY: I have baby eczema. I'll grow out of it. Here, let me feel (reaches over to touch Grace's face).
GRACE: (flinching away) Don't touch me! Sure you're growing, Miss Piggy. Just look at how much you eat. You can't even make it through the night without a snack.
AMY: And just because you can makes me a pig?
GRACE: Yes. The doctor said you weigh over thirteen and a half pounds now. That's over half a pound heavier than me!
AMY: Please. That's barely any different than the day we were born. Plus, I'm a mover and a shaker -- I need the calories. What do you do but lay there on your back waving your hands and feet around all day?
GRACE: Hands? Feet? What are those?
AMY: Exactly. You don't even know. Hands are these things. Great for grasping feet, like so. I'm not really sure what else they are used for.
GRACE: Huh, I wonder if I have those, too.
AMY: You do. They're also helpful for pushing up when you roll over.
GRACE: How's that?
AMY: You know, when you're... oh, never mind, you probably won't know what I'm talking about. I hardly see you roll. Not on purpose, anyways.
GRACE: Again with the rolling. It doesn't seem so great to me -- how can you look at the fan with your head up like that?
AMY: True (rolls over on to her back and looks up at the fan with Grace).
A few moments of silent contemplation pass as they both admire the fan spinning.
AMY: Mr. Fan -- always so dependable.
GRACE: I agree.
AMY: I heard dad setting up our cribs the other day. Who do you think is going to get moved over first?
GRACE: Probably me. You always go to bed so early. Plus, mom already jury rigged James's light -- you know the turtle that you like -- above the bed for you. I don't think she'll want to go through all that trouble again if she can help it. I'm happy enough with the cow jumping over the moon light.
AMY: I can't wait until we get our own rooms. You always take up more than your half of the bed when you sleep.
GRACE: Do not! You're the one who's always shimmying off your boppy in your sleep.
AMY: I'm just trying to get away from you. (Rolls back to her front as she speaks, ending up on top of Grace.)
GRACE: Hey! What the... get off me! Is this your idea of getting away from me?
AMY: (Trying to push herself off, but getting stuck.) Sorry... I'm trying... I can't... If only I knew how better to use... aargh... (lets her head collapse on Grace in frustration).
GRACE: (Wailing) Dad!! Dad!! Amy won't get off me!!
AMY: So... tired...
AMY: (Making one final effort) There. I'm off. Happy?
Both pause to look around as they hear a click and see a flash. In horror, they see Dad in the corner taking pictures.