Dear Free-Range Kids: We were stationed in Germany when I gave birth to my twins in 2002. I am twin, whose mother is a twin, whose grandmother is a twin and whose great grandmother was a twin. Five straight generations of twins, and from the moment we found out we were having twins, all I could think about was being able to fly home to my great grandmother and place those precious things in her arms.
Two weeks after they were born we received the call that she wasn’t doing well, and that if we were coming, it needed to be now. My husband was training so unable to accompany us. I boarded a trans-Atlantic flight with two nursing newborns and a heavy heart. The kids both started crying at the same time and as I was fumbling, trying to comfort two infants in the limited space of coach, I see a pair of hands reach over the seat, take one of my babies, and proceed to walk up and down the aisle singing to her as I feed her sister. It wasn’t until the third lap of coach that I got a good look at the stranger who had my baby. He was the oddest little man wearing a wide lapeled suit coat, boots with heels and a pompadour, while singing “You Are My Sunshine.” To this day, my girls still love to hear the story about the time James Brown sang them lullabies! – K.B.