What is it like to have your own peer group with you for your first eighteen years? I have no idea but I observe with fascination and a bit of envy the daily interactions between Libby and Nate.
Libby and Nate sit down at the piano and play their duet:
We All Fall Down. 
Nate comments on Maisy the mouse going to the library. Both Libby and Nate are crazy over the Lucy Cousins' Maisy books:
Doctor Maisy, Maisy at the Beach, Maisy at the Farm, Maisy Cleans Up, Maisy goes Camping, etc
.
Give them some running water and stones, and the twins will spend many minutes carrying the rocks back and fourth to drop in the water. This has been a favorite activity ever since they could walk. If there is a bridge handy, the fun multiplies, accompanied by commentary on possible trolls and billy goats.
"It's Nemo," says Nate, pointing to a striped fish. "Yes," says Libby, "but it's not Nemo."
"That's Thomas," remarks Libby, pointing the the Amtrak train entering the station. "No," replies Nate, "That is Diesel 10."
As Libby puts a monkey on the bed Nate narrates, "One little monkey, jumping on the bed," followed by Libby's "He fell off and broke his head."
"It's Nemo," says Nate, pointing to a striped fish. "Yes," says Libby, "but it's not Nemo." 
And what is it like to have your own little class of two adoring grandchildren when you're 60 something? I envy YOU, you lucky dog. I must say, these kids are brilliant, as seen through their grandfather's reporting. "It is, but it isn't." That's true philosophy.
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