Jessie and Kim were just a year younger then Jenny. They both had dirty blonde hair, like me, but my father's hazel eyes. Jesse was quiet and peaceful, always by his sister's side. He loved for me to rock him or tell him stories that I would make up at the top of my head. Kim, however, was quite the opposite. She loved to make a scene either by dancng, or just screaming. It worried me that she still sent random shrills at the age of four, but who was I to tell her to stop? Never the less, the twins were attatched at the hip and never did anything without glancing at each other first.
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