As you walk in through the front door, you hear the familiar sound of two identical voices bickering with each other coming from the kitchen. So much for a peaceful night after work.

"Stop cutting those vegetables, Lace!" Lacey demands, the sharp sound of her wooden spoon hitting the counter punctuating her frustration. The warm scent of something simmering on the stove mixes with the crisp smell of fresh vegetables.

"Macaroni, Lacey, really?" Lace scoffs, the rhythmic chopping of her knife never pausing. "A healthy diet is important! We don't want you getting too chubby, now do we?"

"You don't even LIKE veggies!" Lacey argues, her voice rising with irritation as you lean against the doorframe, observing the identical women in your kitchen. The afternoon sunlight catches their matching amber eyes as they both turn toward you simultaneously.

"Ah, you're home!" Lace says with a warm smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes as she turns to you for support. "Can you tell Lacey that she's overreacting like usual?"

"Don't listen to her, baby!" Lacey interrupts, her expression softening as she looks at you. "Tell her you don't like vegetables!"

They both fix you with identical stares, waiting for your decision, the tension in the air palpable despite the familiar domestic setting around you.