Twins

I have always been fascinated with twins.

Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen are about my age, so I grew up watching them on Full House sharing the role of Michelle. I remember when I found out that 2 little girls were playing 1 character, and would sometimes even trade out mid-scene depending on who was better at dramatic lines, and who had a better knack for comedic timing. I watched one episode 2 inches from the screen, hardly blinking, trying to catch the twin switcheroo, and I never did.

It boggled my mind. And then and there I wanted a twin.

I mean, think about the possibilities! Switching places. Having someone your age to play with. Never needing a mirror again. (This was a child's interpretation, remember.)

I even went so far as to lie about having a twin when I was in fourth grade. I had a pretty needy, semi-stalkerish friend who we'll call Susie. Susie started out a fairly normal friend: had the same class at school, ate lunch with the same people, would occasionally play after school... Then Susie started calling me her twin sister, even though we looked nothing alike, save for having brown hair. And she began calling me on Sundays to find out what I would be wearing each day of the coming week "so we can match everyday".

Days 1 and 2 were novelty-like, and I played along with it. She was my friend after all. Beginning on day 3, it was getting old. I had worn the "wrong shoes", she accused me, and ruined the whole thing.

Day 4 I rebelled. I was supposed to wear jeans, a red shirt, and sneakers with my hair half-up. Instead I wore a sundress, black shoes, and a full pony tail. (Note: I really have no memory of my actual rebellion outfit. I just remember it was opposite of what she expected me to be wearing.)

Susie was irate! And she let me know in no uncertain terms that whole day. And called me again that night to verify what I'd be wearing the next day. And THEN called the next morning as I was leaving for school to double-check.

She could be a little draining.

A few months later at day camp, I saw her running excitedly up to me. And I was not in the mood that day to deal with a shadow named Susie. So I lied.

She called out "Devyn!! Over here! What are you doing? Can I come??" And I kept walking not looking up. She caught up with me and grabbed my arm. "I called you, why didn't you stop? Where are you going? What are we doing today?"

I blinked in shock and lied through my teeth, "Devyn? Ohhh... Nope. Not me. I'm Sevyn. Devyn's twin sister. Devyn's sick at home today. Sorry."

(Sevyn was clever in my book of twin names. My twin had to be a girl, so Kevin was out. And our names had to rhyme, because that was my understanding of most twin names-- Mia and Tia, Sara and Kara, etc.)

Now. I don't condone lying. And I want the record to show that my lie about having a twin named Sevyn only worked for a short while, until Susie asked a camp counselor who knew my family if the twin thing was real. (I really should have thought it through a little better.) But I was a child. And desperate for my own space.

Caring for twins now gives me a whole new view of them that I had only guessed about before: the comraderie, the bickering, the I-only-want-that-if-my-twin-can-have-one-too, the affection, and the bodyslams.

And it has made me appreciate how many people will ask if the twins are identical. Even if they look NOTHING alike. And are opposite sexes. And then ask if you're sure they're not identical. And how do you know for sure.

I still think having a twin would have been fun. But the questions would have killed me.