When Julie and I were living in our separate places in SF and having our never-ending sleepovers, we both had roommates, of course. One of her roommates had red hair (as does Julie). Her name was Holly.
On April 1, I saw her with a new haircut and some makeup (which she usually didn’t wear). So I said, “Hey, Holly, nice haircut.” And she responded, “I’m not Holly. I’m her twin sister.”
It being April Fool’s, I laughed and said, “Okay, and what’s your name?”
“Funny,” I said and walked off.
Later I ran into Holly, with more hair and less makeup.
In other words, I’m a little gun shy around twins now.
Yesterday, in one of my classes, I had two kids with the same last name, same projected graduation date, and very similar looks (once you got past the gender difference). I said, “You guys must be twins.”
To which one of them (the older, darn that birth-order thing) said, “No. We’re not. We’re triplets.”
And, indeed, there was a third in a different class.
I just can’t win.