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

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

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.

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

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

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

“Yeah, out of your mouth. Where else?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

She even used my tooth brush once.

I’ve always been like that.

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

“Can I have a gum?” she asked.