People think we are raising twins, but they're wrong. We actually have triplets: Emerson, Carter, and Carterror. It's true. Carterror doesn't hang around often, but when the days are long and naps have been missed, she comes out swinging. Today, when we should have been napping, we ran errands. We needed some grain for our cows, so before picking up the boys from school, we stopped at the feed store. The girls spent a little time looking at all the fish, birds, and pets they have for sale. Immediately, after telling them not to touch the tanks, Carter tried to go fishing. That's when I realized Carterror had arrived. I called her name to stop her and realized her shirt was exceptionally lumpy. "What's in there?" I asked, pointing to her newly developed bosom. "My kitty," she replied, pulling out a stuffed cat from her sweatshirt. A minute later, we were walking down an isle of bovine paraphernalia and she darted around a corner.