Always in Twos

I have a napkin holder on my dining table. I try to pull out a single napkin. Impossible. Always getting two. Never one. Never three. Very frustrating and irritating.

Same thing happens with trying to remove a single sandwich or food storage plastic bag from the box they come in. Never one. Never three. I try to pull on one, two come out.

Those are just two examples. Two? I couldn’t give just one example, or three? Had to be two?

Happens to me all day long with so many different things. Always in twos. Not everything. But more than coincidence and more than odds allow. Too many times twos. To what end?

It’s happened so often that I finally decided to rant about it here.

Make no mistake about it, two is not my favorite number.

Is it a conspiracy? A curse? Am I being haunted – a prank by a ghost? Could it be a message from God? If so, what does it mean? What am I expected to do with it?

Christ Jesus sent out his disciples two by two.

When Mormons show up at my door to pester me, it is of course always in twos.

They went into the ark with Noah, two and two, male and female, of all flesh in which there was the breath of life,  just as God had commanded.

Traditional marriages, always in twos, one male and one female. Not me, I’m single. No children.

Two eyes, two ears, two hands, two arms, two legs, two feet.

Left and right. Top and bottom, Back and front.

Two wheels on my bicycle. Two baskets.

Two sinks in my apartment. Going out to my private second level apartment balcony, French doors.

I have two US flags in a window – went to Walmart to buy one of those small ones to display for Independence Day July 4, 2016. Sold in twos. Likewise, flyswatters sold in twos there.

Two TVs. One to watch entertainment while using the other to monitor news or weather, or sports.

During childhood, my parents had parties at their house. The family room actually had a full length bar with bar stools. Adults would get their alcohol. One would offer to fix me a coke in a glass with ice. “How many rocks?” I’d be asked, referring to ice cubes. “Two.” I always answered. Not so now, as an adult, now preferring crushed ice or those tiny ice cubes.

God have mercy. I’m writing this on . . . twosday.

Reported by Jim Lantern
Tuesday morning, 27 December 2016

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Categories: Personal Stories | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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