TWINS!!!!

I notice their rambunctiousness first. Their splashing hilarity. They jump into the shallow pool with complete guffawing abandon , racing running to the other side of the pool. Taking up the entire lane. Two of them.

I’m tired. At the end of my swim here at Hilltopia. A long day and now a long swim and I’m ready to get out soon. But can’t ignore these two. They demand my attention.

They have the same reddish hair, arranged in the same half ponytail style. They both wear the same maroon tank suit, suntanned shoulders bouncing over the white water they create.
It takes a few laps for me to realize it: Twins! Swimming twins! Cool. I love it that they both swim, they both splash, they both laugh uproariously . Over what? There doesn’t seem to be anything going on. Except for their own show .

And maybe this is what it’s like for twins. Who needs the rest of the world when you’ve got yourself to hang out with, swim with, play with, eat with…..

I remember when my sister and I were ‘twins’ at the Fiesta Inn pool in Cabo Del San Jose. We had the same suit on. A turquoisey tropical number. We had the same haircut and tan. I am a couple of years older, but hell at our age, who can tell? So when someone at the hotel pool asked if we were twins, we just nodded and said, ‘Yes, we’re twins.” And for the rest of the entire trip, that’s what we were. Twins. A completely different identity from being a non twin. An individual.

We were a unit. We did water ballet with twin like accuracy. We sipped our margaritas with twin like abandon. We sang little swimming songs in twin unison.

Twins.
It was cool.
And so tonight, when I see these twins, I remember when my sister and I posed as such. And how fun it was. We fooled everyone. And were delighted, in prime twin fashion, with our ruse.

Later, in the locker room, the Twins are in my spot. Of course. I joke, tell them that my locker is right behind them. The crack up. Move out of my way. “This always happens,” I say. “We all end up in the same spot. “
“We just take up a lot of room “ they laugh, unembarrassed at their twin space needs.

Down the aisle, Little Ecuadoran Grandma sees them and grins in delight:
"You are Twins?"
"Yup,” they both exclaim.
"That is SO sweet."
"Sometimes." The crack up. This is an old joke. Or a new one. It doesn’t matter. Twins get their jokes without having to check in.
And so we all laugh as I continue to move my stuff out of their way over to the next aisle. Getting dressed, I hear them laugh. Still boisterous after their swim. Reveling in their twindom.
And I think, hell, I wish I had my twin here tonight. To share a laugh. To take over a lane. To love and cherish.

Corny right?
But twins are special. And I do know this. Well…..almost…..