Do you share your food easily? With whom, and why?

“WHAT? Are you kidding?” I said to her surprised.

“Out of my mouth?” I asked.

I don’t. Do not touch the food on my plate, do not take a sip out of my glass, do not sip out of my straw, do not put something off your plate onto mine.

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Once I was chewing gum. Tracy, then seventeen looked at me.

“I couldn’t find mine so I used yours RJ,” she told me. I looked at it. She left the bathroom.

I yelled after her, “THERE’S NEW BRUSHES IN THE CUPBOARD TRACY!”

Why does my mother care about my sister more than me?

I stared at my toothbrush. Then dropped it in the garbage can. I grabbed a new one. I was not like Tracy at all however, Tracy and I are close. We are so much alike in our ways that mom said we were twins born apart and attached by the soul. So to Tracy, she loved that, and doing things like that with her brother didn’t bother her a bit.

“No I’m not, give me half of yours,” she said.

I did and she popped it in her mouth and continued to chew it. I stared at her with a surprised look.

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“What?” she said. “Dad always told us we were made of the same stuff.”

“Give me half of yours,” she said.

My older sister Tracy was the opposite. Her twin Lori was more like me, don’t touch my food.

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I’ve always been like that.

To put a face to my story, Tracy from her college yearbook.

“Don’t have anymore,” I told her. She gave me the sad face.

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“I’ll get one next time. I’m in a hurry.”