I don't know that I've ever officially introduced y'all to Georgia's twin brother, Owen.
We named him after Owen Wilson, as we've always joked that that's who he faintly resembles (minus the prominent, crooked nose). Owen isn't around all the time, just on the messiest, craziest days. The type of days where my children all seem to run around like little unisex, naked, mowglis.
On this particular day, Owen was wearing an old pair of Ezra's jammies because I'd managed to somehow leave a good chunk of our clothes at my mom's house. He'd also just gotten yanked out of the sink bath he'd decided to give himself (he claimed he was making puddles [insert eye roll here]), soaking his previous outfit, one of very few of his we managed to take home with us.
Despite the obvious resemblance between Owen and Georgia, there is one pronounced difference...Owen is measurably crazier. Owen is like Georgia to the 3rd degree. Owen is like Georgia in her most manic, exuberant, tom-boyish state. When Georgia busts out a spoon/sword (because everyone knows that princesses need to defend the castle too), strips off most of her clothes, yanks out her hairbows, and runs, shrieking around the house Braveheart style (minus the blue paint), that's when Owen comes out to play.
It's a good thing we love him as much as we do...or else, frankly, we might kill him.