Chalk and Cheese

When people hear I have a twin, they are quick to get excited. Visions of Tia and Tamera in matching outfits flash before them. Like Mary-Kate and Ashley, people think you can't have one of us without the other. I often see the twinkle (or horror) in their eyes as they picture another man walking this planet that is just like me. Someone who speaks and thinks alike, images of two Patricks finishing each other's sentences spring to mind. Then comes the interrogation, it's usually the standard variation of questions you would expect.

I'll explain that my sister and I are fraternal, and if they happened to see us side by side, they probably wouldn't think we share any genes at all. Sometimes, I'll elaborate how we almost didn't even share a birthday, considering I was breech and close to midnight literally kicked her out of the womb a month premature. But I spare them all the gory details my mother takes pride in spewing, especially the part about us being blue. I'll point out that we aren't attached at the hip. 



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