I walked out into the kitchen to find my son Max with a brick of cheddar cheese in one hand and a knife in the other. He’d just sliced a piece off and was ready to pop it into his mouth.

“DON’T EAT THAT!” I screamed. “That’s for the fruit and cheese platter I’m serving our company tomorrow!”

“Fruit and cheese?” he asked. “I’m thinking the grapes I just ate were for that too, huh?”

“Oh come on!” I cried. “Of course those things are for company. When do we ever have bricks of cheese laying around?”

“I know!” Max complained. “Everybody in this house likes cheese and you only buy it when we’re going to have company.”

“So if you know that why are you eating it?” I asked.

Another slice of cheese was halfway to his mouth when he stopped. He was caught, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. “If you know how much we like it why don’t you buy extra so you won’t get mad when we open the package.” he countered.

“Because I’ve already tried that and you just eat two bricks of cheese instead of the one.” I answered.

“I do like cheese.” Max said in his defense.

Just then my husband Steven came into the kitchen. “What’s all the yelling about?” he asked.

“I’m eating cheese.” Max said popping another piece in his mouth.

“STOP EATING THAT!” I yelled, then looked over at Steven “I was saving that for our company tomorrow.” I explained.

“You’re going to have to go out and get more cheese now anyway.” Max reasoned. “So why can’t I have this one?”

“He got a point.” Steven said as he shrugged his shoulders.

I looked at Steven, ready to hurt him too. “Because I wasn’t planning on going to the grocery store again.” I complained. “Today was clean-the-house-to-get-ready-for-company day.”

I’m pretty sure the look on my face said plenty because it wasn’t more than a moment before Steven suggested, “Why don’t I run to the store for you?”

“Good idea.” Max said, popping another piece of cheese into his mouth. “You might want to get some more grapes too.”

“Make a list.” Steven said as he picked up the car keys. “You’re coming with me Max.”

“Why do I have to come?” Max asked.

I’d already grabbed a paper and pen and had opened the refrigerator to do a quick inventory. “You ate the whipped cream too!” I cried. “What did you do, dip the grapes in it?” I asked.

“No.” Max looked confused. “I ate it by the spoonful. That stuffs good.”

“I can’t believe you!” I slammed the refrigerator door closed and began going through the pantry.

“Where’s the box of crackers I just bought.” I turned to stare at Max.

“Don’t look at me!” he cried. “I didn’t even know we had crackers.”

That’s when my other son, Alex walked into the kitchen with his hand in the box of crackers that was tucked under his arm.

“Are you kidding me!” I took the box from him and shook it. “It’s almost empty!”

Alex looked confused. “They weren’t for us to eat?” he asked.

“They’re for company.” Steven and Max said in unison.

Alex looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry. I was hungry and that’s all I could find to eat.”

“Maybe you should come with us.” Steven said as he took the list from me.

“Where are you going?”

“To the store.” Max said, then looked at me as I just stared at the three of them. “If any of us stays here I’m pretty sure she’s going to explode.”

“I’ll get my shoes.” Alex said as he backed out of the kitchen.

It was time to call it a night and Steven walked over to our bedroom window to close and lock it

before putting on the heat.

“Why don’t we just leave the window open tonight?” I asked.

“But it might rain.” he said.

“I was just watching the forecast and it’s going to be a cool crisp night with no rain.”

Steven seemed to hesitate. “I don’t know.” He still had his hand on the window.

“It’s such a beautiful night out. Why waste the electricity?” I reasoned.

We’d spend so many months with the air conditioning on and we had some many months ahead of us with the heat that I just wanted one night of fresh air. But Steven didn’t look convinced. “I guess we could try it for one night.” he said.

I smiled as I put an extra blanket on the bed. I could hear the rustling of the leaves. “Doesn’t that sound nice? All the pretty fall sounds will lull us right to sleep.”

Steven climbed into bed. “All I hear is a motorcycle gunning its engine.”

At first I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but once he’d mentioned it I could hear one way off in the distance. “Try to focus on the rustling of the leaves.” I said. “You’ll be sleeping like a baby in no time.”

Steven is a pretty light sleeper so I can understand why he’d gotten used to blocking out the sounds with the air conditioning. But there comes a time when some fresh air needs to come into the house.

We were both sitting up in bed reading when one of the neighbor’s dogs began to bark.

I tried to pretend I didn’t hear it but Steven had put his book down and was staring at me so, it was hard to ignore him.

“I’m sure they’ll bring him in soon.” I explained. “It’s probably that last run of the night.”

“I’m not sleeping like a baby yet.” he complained as he closed his book, turned off his light and put a pillow over his head.

Once he seemed settled, I took the time to enjoy the fall sounds a bit more before I turned out my light and let the sounds lull me to sleep.

Halfway through the night we were both jolted out of our sound sleep.

“What’s that smell?” I said as Steven jumped up to close the window. I felt as if I was choking.

“It’s a skunk! Something must have scared it right outside our window.” he said.

We were both feeling sick as our room filled with the noxious odor.

Steven grabbed his pillow and a blanket. “I’m going in the living room.” he said.

“I’m right behind you.” I grabbed my pillow and blanket and headed down the hall.

“Well, you were right about one thing.” Steven said as he put on the heat and made sure all the windows were closed.

“What’s that?”

“We are sleeping like babies.” He grabbed the television remote and began channel surfing. “Weren’t our boys up every two hours for feedings when they were babies?”

It was early morning and I was enjoying a cup of tea as I looked out my kitchen window and watched a gust of wind swirl a pile of leaves up into the air. They reminded me of a flock of starlings taking flight. Those swirling leaves also made me realize winter was coming. I pulled my robe closer around my neck as my husband, Steven came into the room.

“Good morning.” he said, as he grabbed a cup from the cabinet.

I pointed out the window, ready to show him the wind blown leaves, but when I opened my mouth to speak only a squeak came out.

Steven quickly looked over at me, “Are you sick?” he asked.

I cleared my throat, ready to tell him I felt fine. But when I went to speak again, still nothing came out but an odd sound.

I sighed as I put my cup on the counter and shook my head no. But that wasn’t completely true. I had laryngitis. I didn’t feel sick. No fever, no sore throat but losing my voice was something I’d had happen to me many times before.

“You’re sick.” Steven stated as he slowly stepped away from me. “Are you staying home today?”

That was hard to decide. If history repeated itself, my voice would be gone for days. Did I really want to miss that much time at work? I looked at Steven as I shrugged my shoulders, then opened my mouth to give my answer, only to have my squeak come out.

“I have no idea what you just said.” Steven said. “Just shake your head yes or no.”

That’s when Alex came into the room, “What’s wrong with Mom?” he asked.

“She’s sick.” Steven said.

I watched as Alex back away from me, “What’s wrong with her?”

That’s when my other son, Max walked into the kitchen. “Something’s wrong with Mom?”

Alex wasn’t sure there was enough distance between us so he backed up some more. “She’s sick.” he said.

“What’s she got?” Max asked.

“Why is everyone talking like I’m not here!” I yelled, but what came out was a bunch of tiny noises.

“What’s that girl?” Max said with a laugh. “Timmy’s in the well?”

Now all three of them were laughing and I was feeling like I had the plague.

“She’s got laryngitis.” Steven answered for me.

“Is she contagious?” Alex wanted to know.

“She’s got something.” Max answered. “I’d stay away from her.”

I was looking from one of them to the other wondering, once again, how I got into a household full of guys that made me feel like the den mother to a frat house.

“I’m still standing here!” I croaked.

“Did anyone understand what she just said?” Alex asked, then laughed.

“Nope.” Max said, then looked at his Dad who also shook his head, “Not a clue.” Steven answered.

They were all still laughing as I stomped off, frustrated.

“Do you think we pushed her too hard?” I could hear Alex ask Max and Steven as I went down the hall.

“I’m pretty sure we’re on our own for dinner tonight.” Steven answered.

Now it was time for me to smile.

I was staying home from work, when I really didn’t feel sick. I’d spend the day curled up on the couch, watching television and napping. Then someone was going to bring me dinner to my door.

It sounded like a perfect day for me, except for the fact that I couldn’t tell anyone about it.

It was a beautiful fall afternoon, the sun was at it’s peak and I was once again admiring all the color in my backyard.

My husband, Steven walked in the room and stood next to me. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

“The trees are so pretty this year.” I said, sipping my cup of tea. “But my favorite one is our tada tree!”

Steven looked confused. “Tada tree?”

I pointed to the little tree on the side of our yard. “All our other sassafras trees turn yellow and a few turn orange. But that little guy is the only one that turns a brilliant red! I just love it!” I gushed. “I’m so glad we decided not to cut him down.”

When we first moved into this house, two summers ago, we were in the back yard with our tree guy trying to decide which trees should stay and which ones needed to go. When we got to the tada tree it seemed a given that it would be taken out. It was small, crooked and a little too close to the fence. But something about the tree, maybe because it had so many reasons why it should have come down, became the very reason I felt it needed to be saved. “That one stays.” I said.

I remember how surprised and our tree guy was. “Really? Are you sure? Your yard is full of sassafras trees and that one doesn’t look like it’s in very good shape.”

“I like it.” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “It reminds me of Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.”

Now Steven looked confused. “What?”

I shrugged my shoulders again. “Someone just needs to show it some love.”

Steven just sighed and shook his head, then moved on the the next tree and it’s fate.

I smiled, oddly happy that my strange little tree was staying.

Now Steven and I were standing at the window admiring it’s brilliant color. “I feel like every fall that tree is thanking us for keeping it.” I looked at Steven and smiled. “It’s saying “TA-DA!” with that burst of red. Reminding us what we almost gave up.”

“Is that what it’s saying?” Steven asked.

“I’m serious.” I said as I bumped him gently with my hip. “Sometimes you just have to follow your feeling.” I explained. “Clearly I was getting a good feeling from that tree, it needed to stay, and now it’s thanking us in the only way it knows how.”

“So are you getting any special feelings for that dead pine?” Steven asked as he pointed to the pine right behind the bird feeder. “I was planning on having the tree guys back to take it down.” Steven started to laugh. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting a vibe that maybe it should stay.”

“Laugh all you want.” I cried. “But I also fought for the lilac bush you and the tree guy thought should go.” I placed my tea cup in the sink then looked back at Steven. “Remember how beautiful it was this spring?”

Steven nodded in agreement then shrugged his shoulders. “It was nice.” he admitted.

I was in an antique center with a friend when I happened to see something that I’d been wanting to get for years. After negotiating a price with the owner I grabbed my phone and called my husband, Steven.

“You’re never going to believe what I just found!” I cried when he answered.

“Try me.” he said with a laugh.

“Remember Mom’s Seth Thomas Cathedral clock she had on her mantel?”

“How could I forget that thing!” he said. “It chimed every fifteen minutes! It drove me nuts!”

“Really?” I was surprised. “I loved that clock.” Now I wasn’t sure how to proceed. “I just happen to be standing in front of that very same clock right now.” I decided to test the waters, “I was thinking about buying it for our house.” I said.

“Is it chiming?” he asked.

“It is.” I said. “I had the owner wind it up for me.”

I remember, as a little girl, watching my Mom use her key to wind her mantel clock every few days. No one else was allowed to touch that key except her. I’m sure she was afraid we’d over wind the clock and break it.

But now I had a chance to own my very own mantel clock. I smiled as I looked back at the clock.

“Do you want me to hold the phone up to it so you can hear it chime?” I asked Steven.

“No thanks.” he said. “I remember what it sounded like.”

“It’s one of my favorite childhood memories.” I told Steven. “I wasn’t a very good sleeper when I was young. I can remember laying in bed at night listening to the chimes then waiting for the gong to strike telling me the hour.”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe you weren’t a good sleeper because of the clock?” Steven asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You never thought you were up because the clock was waking you every fifteen minutes?”

That stopped me for a moment. “I never thought about it.” I admitted. I looked back at the clock sitting on the shelf of the antique store mesmerized by pendulum as it swung back and forth.

“You sleep through the night now, don’t you?” he asked.

“That’s because between work and kids I’m so exhausted nothing could wake me.”

“I can guarantee if you buy that clock you’ll be up every fifteen minutes listening to it.”

I was disappointed but I knew what he was saying was right. “I guess I’ll pass on the clock.” I said.

“You made a good decision.” he said.

After I hung up I was still feeling a bit sad. The owner of the store came over to me. “Do you want me to take the clock up to the front desk for you now?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to have to pass on it.” I said. “My husband talked me out of it. But thank you so much for winding it up for me.”

The owner shook his head. “Great.” he said sounding a bit disgusted. “Now I’m stuck listening to that thing chime every fifteen minutes for the next few days!”  

I was on a road trip with my sister Donna. We’d just gotten into the car when she asked, “Did you step in something?”

I quickly checked the bottom of my shoes. “No why?”

“You don’t smell that?”

“I don’t smell anything.”

Donna shook her head sadly, “My nose is just so sensitive.” she said. As we drove out of her neighborhood we saw a man walking his dog, they were stopped on someone’s lawn. “Now I know where that smell came from.” she said with disgust.

We continued on our trip. About twenty minutes later we were on the Thruway. “Do you smell macadam?” she asked.

“Macadam?” I took a deep breath in through my nose. “Nope! I don’t smell a thing.”

Seconds later we were passing a crew of trucks paving one of the the lanes. “Wow!” I said. “I smell it now!”

Donna just shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a curse having this nose.” she said. “Now all I can smell are oak leaves.”

“Well it’s fall and we’re on a leaf peeking trip so I’m not that impressed with that.” I said. “But how can you just smell oak leaves?” I asked.

She turned to look at me, tears streaming down her face. “Because I’m allergic to oak leaves.” She pointed to the box of tissues in the back seat. “Can you grab me one?” she asked. “I’m having a hard time with my allergy’s this year.”

I handed her some tissues and watched as she mopped her cheeks.

By now we’d reached out first destination, a farmer’s market.

As soon as we opened the car doors, Donna was overwhelmed. “Wow, do you smell the pickles?”
I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, “Nope. I don’t smell anything.”

“It’s a curse I tell you.” She said as we started to look at the different booths.

Sure enough there was a pickle booth. As I got closer I could smell the garlic pickles. “Oh my gosh, they smell so good.” I said. “I think I’ll get a jar.”

By now Donna’s nose had moved on. “Someone’s selling lavender.” She said.

“Wow! It’s like walking with a Bloodhound.” I said. Then changed my tone as if I were talking to a puppy. “Which way to the lavender, girl?”

“Very funny.” Donna cried but then pointed behind us, “It’s that way.” she said sadly.

We got the the lavender booth and I was trying to choose between a satchel or the oil. Inhaling both I couldn’t decide. “Which on do you like?” I asked my sister, handing her both to smell.

She held both up to her nose. “I’m sorry.” she whispered to me. “But now I’m smelling lavender and fish.”

“Ewww.” I cried, but backed into the isle to look at the other booths. Sure enough someone was selling fish a few booths down. “You’re right again.” I said.

“It’s a curse.” she said again.

By now we’d finished our shopping and were headed back to the car. “Alright, now I’m smelling oranges.” she said.

I looked around, but no one was selling citrus. “Sorry, you’re wrong this time.” And had to smile. “It’s apple season! No one is selling oranges!”

She pointed over to a little boy sitting at a table eating a bagged lunch. I looked over as the Mom was peeling an orange for him. “It’s a curse.” she said again.

As we put our bags in the car and climbed in I closed my door and was ready to put on my seat belt Donna asked again. “Are you sure…

But I cut her off. “If you ask me to check my shoes again I swear…” I left the threat hanging. “Maybe you should check your shoes.”

Just then we both saw the dog at the same time. “Okay, you win.” I said. “What you have is a curse.”

“Told you.” she said.

I looked out my kitchen window and saw a large gray bird sitting on the top of my bird feeder. “What kind of bird is that?” I thought to myself but it was too far away for me to get a good look at it.

That’s when my son, Alex walked into the kitchen. “What are you looking at?” he asked as he stood next to me looking out the window.

“Do you have any idea what kind of bird is sitting on top of the feeder?” I asked him as I pointed to the bird.

Alex looked outside, then looked back at me, “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

“Then I’m going to say a gray bird.”

“You’re no help.” I said, as I looked back at the bird. He was perched on the top, not eating, but keeping all the other birds away from the feeder. “I thought it might be a Mourning Dove.” I added. “But they usually hang out under the feeder.”’

Alex didn’t seem impressed. “Whatever you say.”

“See, this is why I want a pair of binoculars.” I said. “I’d be able to get a better look at him and be able to use my bird book to identify him.”

“We’ve talked about this before.” Alex said, in a warning tone. “You can’t sit out on the deck with binoculars. The neighbors will think you’re spying on them.”

“That’s where I think you’re wrong!” I argued. “I’d be looking up in the trees. Who’s going to think I’m looking in their windows?”

“That bird on the feeder isn’t up in a tree.” Alex tried to reason with me. “If you were standing in here with binoculars the neighbor behind us would think you were looking at them.”

I tried to ignore him as I pleaded my case further. “But if I’d had them last spring when the Cooper hawk made that nest in the top of our neighbors’ tree I would have been able to watch the babies grow. Instead I had to be satisfied with just hearing them call for the next feeding.”

“Okay, maybe if you were only looking up in the trees.” Alex said.

“See?” I sounded hopeful.

“But you know if a bird were sitting on the neighbors windowsill you’d be trying to get a look.” Alex added.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Only if it were a bird I didn’t recognize.”

“See?” Alex cried. “That’s what I’m trying to stop. Do you want you’re neighborhood nickname to be Creepy Binocular Lady?”

“What!”

“I’m just warning you.” Alex said. “Because that’s what your neighborhood nickname would be.”

“Wait, that reminds me. Have you seen Oven Mitts lately?” That’s what we’d named a nice older gentleman who walks the neighborhood everyday. He got his name last winter when his giant mittens looked a lot like oven mitts. “I haven’t seen him in a few days.”

“I saw him yesterday.” Alex said. “But that’s what I’m taking about. We like Oven Mitts. We worry about him.”

“Of course we do.” I said. “He seems like a nice man.”

“Do you think the neighbors are going to feel the same way about Creepy Binocular Lady?”

“Creepy Binocular Lady.” I said under my breath. I shook my head in defeat. “Why do you do this to me?”

“Just trying to protect you.” He patted me on the shoulder as he headed for the refrigerator. “You’re welcome.”

Now that the weather is turning a bit chilly I’m back on spider watch. I walk around the house with a tissue in my hand just waiting for one to show up so I can squish it before it gets away and hides.

It was early Saturday morning when I heard my son Alex calling me. “MOM! There’s a spider in here!”

I rushed down the hall, tissue in hand, and saw Alex standing outside his bathroom door. He pointed in the bathroom, up towards the ceiling. “That thing is huge!” he said.

I looked up to where he was pointing, and he was right, the spider was the size of a quarter.

“Why does everyone call me when there’s a bug in the house?” I asked.

“Because you like bugs.” Alex said as he backed away to give me more room to work.

“What are you talking about?” I said as I inched my way into the bathroom, the tissue in my hand ready for battle. “I don’t like bugs!”

“Sure you do.” he said as he closed the bathroom door a bit. “You’re always talking about the great bug you just found outside, or looking them up on the internet if you don’t recognize it.” It sounded as if he were trying to convince me.

“I think they’re interesting, but only when they’re outside.” I said as I slowly climbed up on the toilet seat, trying to sneak up on him. I was keeping my head down low so if he turned out to be a jumper he wouldn’t land in my hair. “I don’t want them living in my house touching my stuff or biting me!”

“Oh, my mistake.” Alex said through the crack in the door. “So, did you get him yet?”

By now, my husband Steven had come down the hall. “Get what?” he asked Alex.

“Mom’s getting a spider in my bathroom.”

“Oh, she’s good at that.” Steven said.

“Hey!” I called as the spider and I were now staring at one another. I moved my tissue to the left the spider moved to the left, when I moved to the right, so did he. “If either of you would like to come in here and help, that would be nice.”

Steven peeked in the door. “There really isn’t enough room for two of us in there.” he said as he looked up at the spider I was about to squish. “Wow! He’s huge!”

“I know!” I cried. I could feel my legs start to shake as the adrenaline coursed through me. My fight or flight response was kicking in and at that moment, flight was starting to win.

I finally decided to lunge at the spider at the exact same moment the spider decided to jump down from the ceiling and disappear from my sight.

I’m pretty sure the neighborhood could hear my scream as jumped down from the toilet seat and raced to the door. Because the door had only been left open a crack I ran right into it pushing it closed. Now I was in a very small space with a very mad spider. I kept screaming until I found the doorknob, at the same time looking over my shoulder picturing that huge thing coming after me. When I was safely back in the hall, leaning against the closed door I sadly looked at Steven and Alex.

“I didn’t get him.” I admitted.

“I was going to take a shower.” Alex said.

“You’ll have to use our bathroom.” I called over my shoulder as I went to the linen closet. I got a towel and placed it at the bottom of the bathroom door making sure he couldn’t get through the crack by the floor. “We’ll let him calm down a bit before I go back in there again.” I said as I sat down on the floor and waited for my heart to stop pounding against my chest and my legs to stop feeling wobbly.

I was just getting all snuggled up on the couch wearing my sweatpants, tee shirt and an oversized sweatshirt – what I like to consider my pajamas – when Steven walked in wearing the same thing.

“I guess we both had the same idea.” he said as he sat down on the couch and picked up the television remote.

“I love this time of day.” I said as I pulled the afghan off the arm of the couch and wrapped it over my legs. “I’ve done everything I needed to do today and now I can relax for a few hours before it’s time for bed.” I listened as the wind howled through the trees making me pull the afghan up closer to my chin.

“It’s my favorite time of the day, too.” Steven said as he began surfing through the channels. “Do you know there are days when I actually get up in the morning and count how many hours I’m going to have to be in my work clothes before I can run home and change into my sweats and do just this?” he said.

“You’re preaching to the choir.” I said as I adjusted the pillows to get more comfortable.

Steven finally settled on a program on the Discovery Channel, that’s we’d only seen a few times before, when our son Alex walked into the room.

“Do you want to go get your sweats on and get ready to settle in for the night with us?” I asked him.

He looked at Steven and then back at me. “Do you two realized it’s only three o’clock on a Saturday afternoon?”

“Sure we do. That’s what Saturday afternoons are for.” I said, moving my feet to make room for him to sit. “I’m hoping to get in a good nap before I have to start making dinner.” I added.

Steven smiled over at me. “A nap sound great.”

Alex shook his head and laughed. “I’m going over to the mall to catch a movie with some friends.”

I listened to the wind howl outside. “Are you sure you want to go out in this weather?” I asked. “It’s miserable out.”

“It’s not that bad out.” he said as he held up my car keys. “Can I take your car? Mine’s out of gas.”

“Sure. It’s not like I’m going to be using it anytime soon.”

“I can see that.” he gave us both a kiss on the top of our heads before heading out the door.

I sat up and looked over at Steven. “Are we pathetic?” I asked.

Steven shrugged his shoulder, Maybe.” he said looking for another show to watch. “But at least we’re warm and dry and pathetic together.”

I grabbed the phone to make a quick call to my younger sister, Donna. After a few rings she picked up. “You’re never going to believe what I was just asked?” I laughed.

“I couldn’t even guess.” she said.

“Someone wanted to know what my twin was up to!”

“Oh, my gosh! I haven’t heard that question in years!” she cried.

“I know!” I shouted. But the excitement soon faded from my voice. I paused for a moment before I continued. “Now, I have a question for you.”

“What?” she asked.

“Why did Mom want to make us look like twins?”

The reason I called my sister about this is because I don’t have the photographic memory my sister seems to have. Donna could tell you what the cafeteria ladies’ names were when we were in grammar school. She can remember what they served every Friday and where every grade sat to eat! I, on the other hand, can’t tell you who my third grade teacher was.

“We’re only fifteen months apart, and we were the same size and height for so many of those years, I just think it was easier for Mom to buy two of everything.” Donna explained. “She never dressed us exactly alike. Don’t you remember she’d get us the same outfit in different colors?” I could tell she was trying to gently nudge my memory.

“I guess I kind of remember.” I said, but I was lying.

“Don’t you remember those plaid skirts she got us? You had the green and I had the blue. We always wore them with the white ruffle shirts.”

“It’s coming back a little.” I could see us wearing the plaid skirts as we ran down the driveway headed for the school bus.

“How about the A-line dresses she’d get us? Don’t you remember the one with the sailboat on the front?” Donna asked.

“Oh my gosh!” I cried. “We both hated that one!”

“See? Now you’re beginning to remember.” she said.

“Wow! I don’t know how you do it!” I said. I had nothing but admiration for her memory.

“Well, actually I cheated on this one.” she admitted.

“How do you cheat on a memory?” I asked.

“Remember a few years ago I took Dad’s old slides and had them made up into photo albums for all of us?” she said. “When you first called I went and got mine out. I have to admit, when I look back at pictures of us we did look a lot like fraternal twins.”

“So are you telling me that we can’t blame Mom for playing the whole twin thing up?” I asked.

“We did look pretty cute dressed alike.” Donna admitted. “Go get your photo album out and see for yourself.”

“No, thanks.” I said. “I kind of like the memory I have Mom making us look stupid as twins, not cute.”

“Suit yourself.” Donna said. “But now that we’re older I think you might appreciate how cute we looked as “twins”.

“Wait a minute!” I cried. “I remember now! That horrible sailboat dress we both hated! Wasn’t I the one who always got stuck wearing it?”

Donna laughed. “See your memory’s coming back!”