Showing posts with label Being twins. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Being twins. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Stubborn by Bonnie Le Hamilton

With Labor Day right around the corner, I find my thoughts turning to a certain someone who entered this world on Labor Day many moons ago. Enough time has passed since that day that said little boy is now the father of a teenager, but when I was a junior in high school, he was the little imp I wrote the following anecdote about.
* * *
The bus pulled up in front of our house, and as I got off, I could hear Patty giggling, and Ben yelling excitedly that the bus was here, but the one I heard most was Danny’s jubilant, “De! De!”

I knew that when I opened the front door, he’d be there to greet me with the same cry as always, “Hi, De!”

Pesky stubborn old rat anyway.

Sure enough as I opened the door, he bounds off the last step and flies into my arms, loaded down with books, and nearly toppling me over. “Hi, De,” is all he says as he gives me a great big hug and kiss.

“Dan, I love you, but I’m not De!” Then I gladly hand him over to the girl behind me.

Why don’t I ever come in the garage door, so Konnie can get attacked?

Danny gives Konnie the identical greeting, but he’s not satisfied. Five minutes later, he wants a drink and can’t find anyone who isn’t busy? So what does he do? Simple, he picks up his cup and trots in the living room, where I’m on the couch reading, and tugging on my pant leg, begs, “De, De, dink, peas.” And he shoves the cup up to me.

This time I get smart. “Konnie, Danny wants you to get him a drink.”

But to no avail. When Konnie tries to get him, and the cup, into the kitchen, he pulls away and, pointing to me, yells, “No, dat De!”

Dag blain brat anyway!

“All right, I’ll get it. But I’m not Konnie!”

This still isn’t the end for today. When Ben comes in my room to tell me Mom wants me to peel potatoes, he’s right behind Ben calling, “De.”

This isn’t her room.

“Just a second, Ben.” I ignore Danny.

All through dinner, he calls everyone by the name he uses for them after someone else says their name.

“Pass the potatoes please, Bonnie.”

“De, De, De.”

“Pass the Kool-Aid please, Bryon.”

“Be, Be, Be.”

“Hand me the beans please, Konnie.”

“De, De, De.”

If I recall correctly, when Ben was Danny’s age, he could tell us apart, he just couldn’t talk. I’m not sure I’m glad Danny can hear.
* * *

J Anyway, Happy birthday, Dan. I love you. And I’m glad you finally learned my name.


Happy writing everyone. J

Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Twin Stories by Bonnie Le Hamilton


The other day I saw, and shared, a post on Facebook 13 Insane Identical Twin Stories That Are Almost Too Funny To Believe http://www.rugzee.com/13-insane-identical-twin-stories-that-are-almost-too-funny-to-believe/. The only thing is, I didn’t find them funny or unbelievable.

In all but three instances in the whole article, similar things have happened to Konnie and me. The only exceptions were waving hi to our reflection (at least I’ve never done that, and Konnie’s never mentioned doing it either, so I’m assuming she hasn’t either), the intentionally switching to cheat stories (We never did that! Ever, would never have considered it.), and the boyfriend kissing the wrong twin one. (It’s a good thing too, since the first time I ever saw my brother-in-law, due to my husband being stationed clear across the country, they were already parents.)

Thankfully, the only time either Tom, or Jerry, have mixed us up was on the phone, and each time we can forgive them because in both those instances they were expecting the other twin to answer. Yeah, they got it wrong, but it was understandable.

And the closest we’ve come to a teacher mixing us up was that one April Fool’s Day when the teacher kept thinking we’d switched places but what really happened was just days before she’d changed the seating putting me near Konnie’s old seat and Konnie in my old seat. Or that time when I signed up for a class taught by a guy Konnie knew, who had asked her to take the class, but she couldn’t because of her work schedule.

When I walked in the class, he thought Konnie had made it after all and said so, calling me Konnie, and I told him, “Actually, I’m Bonnie.”

At which point he thought he’d been calling Konnie by the wrong name all along and sincerely apologized. Konnie’s roommate, who was with me, stepped in to inform him that he hadn’t until that minute met me and Konnie was indeed at work.

 And as for the intentionally switching to cheat scenario, we never did that, We did get accused of cheating once, but that wasn't a “switching places” tale, that was a “we’re twins, and we communicate with just a glance” tale. I looked at her and got the answer, and everybody who witnessed it knows I got the answer from just glance at Konnie. It happened. But I’d hardly call that cheating, since it was clearly accidental.

And I’m certain I’ve related that story before too. If I haven’t, just let me know.
Anyway, on a whole every story in the article is believable, since for the most part, similar things have happened to Konnie and me.

In fact, I’d say all those stories are common. Frankly, I would think stories of Twin ESP, which is a real thing, since that is how we got accused of cheating, would be more unbelievable than any of the common occurrences in the article, though all of them would make good fodder for any story involving identical twins.


Happy writing everyone. 

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

The Downside of being a Twin by Bonnie Le Hamilton

Not too long ago yet another person learned I’m a twin, and, well, when this occurs one of two things happens. Said person either ask me what’s it like to be a twin, or comments something on the line of wishing they were a twin.

Now, I’ve mentioned my comeback for people asking me what’s it like to be a twin, but now I’d like to address why people really don’t want to be a twin.

The number one reason you don’t want to be a twin because people who know one of you, think they know both of you. In other words, people think I’m exactly like Konnie in personality. (Anyone who knows both of us can tell you otherwise.)

 The number two reason is that some people think it’s okay to give twins a gift to share. If you think it’s easier for twins to share than you don’t know any twins. I think it’s harder, probably because we have to share so much, starting with our names, people mixed us up a lot, but some of them resorted to just calling us “Onnie” since that worked for both of us.

And frankly, giving us one gift shows you know as little about us as those who gave us identical gifts. As I recall one birthday we each received a mini china tea set, a set of a jump rope and some jacks, a pair of pants, a dress, and a badminton set.

Konnie kept both tea sets, I kept the jump ropes and jacks and lamented that the pants were a size too small, I also don’t recall ever wearing that dress, except that day. Konnie loved that dress, and didn’t care for the badminton set. We’re not the same people.

Number three is you have to share a birthday with someone else. And yeah I know, everyone can find someone out there with the same birthday, but I’m not talking about finding someone with the same birthday, I’m talking about having that someone in the same house as you. And, in my case, I’m sharing a birthday with someone who likes German Chocolate cake. Now don’t get me wrong, I love chocolate, I just for the most part don’t like nuts in my deserts, and I can’t stand coconut or cherries. In other words, I can’t stand German Chocolate cake. You want to give me a cake, don’t make it that. I prefer Apple Spice cake with cream cheese frosting, but I will settle for any cake with buttercream frosting.

The other problem being that Konnie is shy, and while she didn’t mind boys at our birthday parties up until we were eight, after that she lobbied for a slumber party, and, of course, no boys. However, most of my friends (and often my best friend) was of the male variety.

I finally got tired of the ban on boys and insisted we plan separate parties. We turned nineteen that year, and she had her slumber party as always, though I think now she’d change her mind about that, finally.

And, when it comes to writing, I wish authors would show this side of being a twin, because, they don’t. The only book I’ve read that shows the down side of being a twin is “Jacob Have I Loved” by Katherine Patterson.

Does anyone know of any others? And please don’t give me any titles of books about twins taking the place of their twin, or books were one twin is bad and the other good. I hate those.


Happy writing everyone.