Pseudo Twins.

A strange phenomenon has already begun.

Much sooner than I expected it to.

Everywhere I go, I get the same question.

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“Are they twins?”

At first, I thought people were joking.

But they weren’t.

And after taking some time to think about it, the reality of the situation has hit me.

At 22 months, Bronx only weighs 5 pounds more than his 4 month-old baby brother.

Currently, the stats are:

Bronx-17.5 pounds, Daegan-12.2 pounds.

They are one diaper and clothing size apart.

It’s like the baby version of The Twilight Zone.

It gets a little awkward when I explain to the curious bystander that they are not twins.

Because then they jump to this question:

“Are they both yours?”

Yes, they are both mine.

Then I watch the confusion set in as people try to do the math, and the numbers come up wrong.

Eventually I have to give their brain a break and go into details.

They are 17 months apart. The older one is just really small for his age.

Most of the time I have to add that Bronx was a preemie so I won’t have to go into how much of a medical mystery he is.

The times I haven’t added on the preemie disclaimer have left me at the mercy of comments like:

“Is he okay?”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Do you feed him?”

Seriously. People have said this stuff.

These innocent public chats-turned-interrogations have started to wear on me.

Which is why I’m considering giving up. It just may be that the next time I go shopping, Bronx and Daegan will be getting matching outfits.

And when people ask if they’re twins, I’m just going to start saying yes.

What the hell, I may even put them in an audition for a Doublemint commercial.

It’s got to be easier than getting grilled by a swarm of strangers every time I leave the house.

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