An Orange Billy Bob Thornton

My orange twin is decidedly more Halloween-esque than ever, bordering on the shade of a Burnt Sienna Crayola crayon. This is because she is ramping up her consumption of carotene-based foods, even for breakfast. While her sister happily munches on normal morning fare such as pancakes, French toast and bagels, Orangina points and yells, "Dat! Dat! Dat!" By "dat" she means sweet potatoes, butternut squash or anything that resembles a pumpkin.

Several helpful moms at the park have commented, "Wow that one is really tan!" as they sort of silently tsk tsk me for not properly applying sunblock. Because presumably I am a lazy mother who only has enough energy to slather lotion on one of her children. "You know what? All this sunblock applying is exhausting. THAT one can go without."

I'm thinking of telling people I've enrolled them in a sinister identical twin study on skin cancer whereby I allow one twin to get grilled mercilessly by the blazing sun each day without protection while the other is doused with head-to-toe zinc oxide so researchers can track if only one develops melanoma.

So now Orangina -- because being the color of cheddar cheese isn't weird enough -- has started taking on the mannerisms of Billy Bob Thorton in Sling Blade. "Mmm-hmmm..." she mutters in a deep-throated voice as she meanders around the living room. While some might find this alarming in the manner of calling in a child psychiatrist I find it alarming in that she might stop before I can capture it on videotape. Since my videos always need musical accompaniment -- I'm thinking People Are Strange by The Doors.

In summary: I have a chubby, pasty twin with OCD and a slim, orange, mentally-deranged twin who might want to kill Dwight Yoakam. Hopefully this will continue so nobody will bug me with the "how do you tell them apart?" question.