When my family and friends gather next Saturday, they’ll be celebrating not one, but two birthdays — mine, and my identical twin’s.

For 24 years, Jasmine and I have answered the same questions over and over again to the point that we have our answers rehearsed. You should see the shock on people’s faces when two people who look almost exactly alike and sound almost exactly like say the exact same thing at the exact same time.

It’s a riot.

I’m sure any twin can relate to these questions — who is the older twin? Can you feel each other’s pain? Are you best friends, or do you hate each other? Did you ever dress alike? Have you ever tricked a boyfriend or a teacher? Or my favorite: What is it like to be a twin?

The short answer is that I have no idea: I’m not really sure what it’s like to not be a twin.

I can tell you that I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world.

To answer the other questions briefly, yes, Jasmine is my best friend. How could someone you have shared 24 years with (plus nine months in the womb) not be your best friend? She knows everything about me.

I am the older twin. I was born 10 seconds earlier, and yes, I often remind her that I am the big sister.

And yes, of course we dressed alike. Why spend the time picking out outfits every day when you can have someone do it for you? That never got old until high school. Then we realized that if we wore different clothes we would have twice the wardrobe at half the expense. I like to think I was the brilliant one who discovered this, but I have to admit: Jasmine has always had more of a sense for fashion.

When I was 15 or so, I decided on a whim to chop my hair off. For years, she wore her hair long and I wore mine short. It never seemed to help people tell us apart.

Unfortunately, I can’t say that we ever deliberately tricked a boyfriend or a teacher, but that is not to say it never happened. Teachers would make us sit on opposite sides of the classroom so they could remember Ambrosia was on the left and Jasmine was on the right. More than once we received grades for the other twin, and we learned to answer to both names (which confused them even more).

Boyfriends have certainly mistaken us for each other, quite frequently actually. As hard as I try, I cannot sufficiently explain the awkward dodge-then-burst-of-laughter that occurs when your sister’s boyfriend leans in for a goodbye kiss after a group outing.

Jasmine is married now, and her husband still struggles with deciphering who is who without caller ID on the phone.

Some twins may find the repeated questions annoying after awhile, but I don’t think they will ever get old for me.

 

Ambrosia Neldon is the managing editor at Leader Publications. She can be reached by phone at (269) 687-7713, or by email at ambrosia.neldon@leaderpub.com.