Dear Twins in My Class

Dear Twins in My Class,

The truth is, I can't tell you apart. I'm currently shooting 30% when guessing your names, which is horrendous considering that I should statistically be hitting 50%, slightly greater given the use of context clues available to me. Because you act offended each time I mix you up, I've taken to acting like I knew all along, as if it were some sort of joke. Let's face it, I'm fooling no one. Why is it that I stutter excuses to defend my confusion each time? It's pathetic for me to do so and I know it. And you know it, too. And the other you, as well. Just don't make me say which is which.

But you've both got to be honest, too. You dress alike, behave alike, talk alike, heck, even whine alike. It's no wonder that I can never tell you apart. If you want to be treated like individuals, you've got to learn what it means to be an individual. You know what's freaky? When I gave you surveys on the first day of class, even though you were seated on opposite sides of the room, you gave almost entirely similar responses. Describing yourself in three words, one of you said "funny, athletic, smart" and the other said "funny, smart, athletic." To the question, what type of sense of humor do you have, you both simply wrote "a good one." And for how you would like to be remembered when you die, whichever of you said "one of the greatest athletes in history" and that other one of you said "the best professional soccer player in history." Both of you said "in history;" not "of all time," not "ever," but "in history." Learn to vary your speech and develop different goals, twins.

I don't care that you're "technically" fraternal. The amount of time I would have to stare at and study your faces for the nuances would probably result in me being sued for sexual harassment. So here's what I suggest - let's meet each other halfway. If I promise to not forget which one I'm talking to mid-conversation, then you've got to give me some kind of discernible difference to work with. One of you could grow out your hair, pierce an ear, or even wear an eye-patch. Hell, do all three and talk like a pirate while you're at it. Just be different! That poster of a giraffe in a sea of zebras daring you to be an individual is not for my amusement. Well, not just for my amusement, anyway.

Sincerely,
Mr. [Kevin]