The Twin Fallacy

Have you ever done something so boneheaded, so idiotic, so moronic that when you realized it you were just stunned that you could be so dense?  I live that life.  You'd think I'd be accustomed to the feeling by now, but it still smarts when it happens.

I am an "experience" person.  I just made that term up.  Let me explain.  I can remember specifics of an event--where I was, what music was playing, if the man on the phone had a mustache or not, etc.  But I don't imprint key components of the memory.  For instance, I've mentioned before when I go to a movie, I will have no recollection who I went to the movie with.  When I talk about that movie and the person says, "You know, I was there with you..." I'll remember they were there, but only because they mentioned it.

My neighbor, the nice lady I do my running with, has four adorable little girls.  They are cute and friendly and like to talk to you and ask lots of questions.  We've known them for over two years now.  Two of them are twins.  And I have had trouble, from the very outset, telling the twins apart. 

And this fact is very embarrassing.  The twins have different length hair.  One likes hers short and the other likes hers long.  But still, I have fumbled over which is which.  There have been periods of time that we've not seen them for months.  What if they've swapped hair styles?  I would be so upset if I got them mixed up.  I've been paralyzed into not saying their names until I figured out if they still had the same hairstyles so I wouldn't get their names wrong.

So I've been fumbling for two years on keeping them straight.  This Halloween we went trick-or-treating with our neighbors.  I got it straight that night because Ellie was an Angel and Maddie was a Baliwood dancer.  But that only helped when they were in costume.

This past weekend we had my daughter's one year party and our neighbors and their cute little girls came.  Embarrassed, I confirmed with my neighbor that Ellie still had the long hair.  And then I said something key to her, "they have distinct faces, I don't know why I'm still confused."  Now, at this point, you might be on my side.  You're thinking that twins are tricky to identify.  But these are fraternal twins.  They're no different than any other two sisters.  And there is just no excuse for me that I am confused, still, after two years.

I suddenly realized I had been worried about hair and outfits to tell them apart and all I needed to do was take a nice close look at their faces.  HELLO.  They look totally different.  Did I mention I was thick-headed and fairly dense in the grey matter region?  I'd like to repeat again the words, "totally" and "different" because they really do look strikingly different.

From that very moment when I took the time to look at their faces and make a connection with face and name, I will never get them confused again.  What was it that made me so worried about not being able to tell them apart?  Whatever it was, it blinded me into not looking at the evidence of individuality that was right in front of me.

Back to being embarrassed, no, I think the proper word is ashamed, at my inability to tell two children apart after knowing them for so long and what I did next.  My neighbor and I ran this morning at the crack of early and I told her the story you've just read.  When you screw up as badly as I did in a situation like this, you might as well beg for mercy.  She is such a kind lady.  She of course said it was okay and she even said it made sense how people see twins as a different set of two than they might see two siblings in general.  My neighbor is the best.  And now, I know exactly which of her children I'm talking to, and only after two years.  I'm such a quick study.

The Big Boy Update:  Penis down.  He can say "penis."  I wouldn't have expected him to know this word except one of his teachers explained to me how they've been teaching them to push their penis's down when sitting on the potty so they don't go all over the floor, or their friends, or their teacher.  Today he pointed to his penis and started saying, "penis, penis."   When he was on the potty later we reinforced the lessons from school and asked him to push his penis down.  All of that was great, but ultimately, he peed in the tub during his bath.  Maybe we'll have more luck next time.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Can you drain the tub?  I am continually amazed at her understanding of language and words.  This afternoon in the tub her brother wasn't ready to get out and was having none of opening the drain.  She was close to it and so I said to her (not expecting her to understand, but for her brother to hear,) "Can you drain the tub?"  She looked at the drain, looked at me, reached out and tried to pull it up. 

Fitness Update:  Back in the run.  7.3 miles today, early, early, before 6AM.  But we were so desperate to run, we didn't care.  The funny thing was, we kept checking the time.  We extended our run not one, not two, but three times because we both were so happy to be out and exercising in the thirty six degree weather. 

Someone Once Said:   Do not confuse "duty" with what other people expect of you; they are utterly different. Duty is a debt you owe to yourself to fulfill obligations you have assumed voluntarily. Paying that debt can entail anything from years of patient work to instant willingness to die. Difficult it may be, but the reward is self-respect. But there is no reward at all for doing what other people expect of you, and to do so is not merely difficult, but impossible. It is easier to deal with a footpad than it is with the leech who wants "just a few minutes of your time, please—this won't take long." Time is your total capital, and the minutes of your life are painfully few. If you allow yourself to fall into the vice of agreeing to such requests, they quickly snowball to the point where these parasites will use up 100 percent of your time—and squawk for more! So learn to say No—and to be rude about it when necessary. Otherwise you will not have time to carry out your duty, or to do your own work, and certainly no time for love and happiness. The termites will nibble away your life and leave none of it for you. (This rule does not mean that you must not do a favor for a friend, or even a stranger. But let the choice be yours. Don't do it because it is "expected" of you.)