This twin and the other

Loads of pretty little children dressed in white today, Holy Communion Mass. Of course the odd over the top dress in very bad taste, but otherwise school looked like a big field of angels. And it made me happy somehow. Happy to see them and happy to remember myself at that age all excited because I too had a crown and a veil. Such a happy time. It should have been, but of course it wasn't my day, I had to share that too. Luckily, at the time, my twin was nowhere near upstaging cute little me. Because I was the girl in curls with a pretty dimply face with freckles scattered in exactly the right place. My twin.. well he wore the boring suit, boring hairstyle, nothing to get very excited about. My dress was perfect and I could pirouette in it and make my skirt go round like a ballerina's. How things change. I don't think I could get away with the pirouetted now, or my skirt going up showing my undies in the process. I don't think I own a skirt at that. My face remains exactly the same, which is incredibly a very good act of God. I have those curls too if only I wouldn't go under the hairdryer every week. But, I wouldn't fit into that dress which is understandable, and which I like to find understandable even if it weren't. But things change. Let's start with the good ones. The other twin now has less hair (another beautiful act of God). I think that's just about it. The other changes. He can and still does wear a white suit and carries it off beautifully. Gone is the scared little boy always in my shadow. He now parades at Ghajn Tuffieha (or wherever) scantily clad in a piece of cloth called swimwear, apparently designer stuff and also expensive stuff which comes in less stuff than a handkerchief. Seriously, it puts a loin cloth to shame. And sometimes, just to carry on the white theme, they also come in white. Angelic, pure and innocent rolled into one very tiny ball which would fit on a two year old's palm. Big sigh. I am not about to divulge the type of my underwear, but let me safely say it's much more good value for money, and no, I'm not pure anymore, I don't go for it in white, but black. Again, things change. My chest has changed ever since I was a six year old. I have grown a cleavage, which when properly dressed is quite a good cleavage too. Other twin also has a cleavage, which isn't called a cleavage but a pumped up chest complete with biceps, triceps, abs... I'm not sure of the technical body words. Yet another good kind act of God... he gave me my crowning glory which isn't going anywhere, and yet he left me with almost no body hair. Good old God, knew the wax is painful. The other twin, aha, his hair is going somewhere extremely soon, and if it weren't for the wax, he'd be mistaken for a bush. And not the sexy kind of bush either. The fact that he goes dark brown in summer doesn't help him much. I stay white, white and pale.
Back to the innocent boys and girls. I like to think I was one of them. I wasn't, thanks to the other twin, who kept informing me that he was about to pee in his pants during the whole ceremony. As the good girl I was back then, I found him a loo to settle the business. If it were the bad girl I am now I'd encourage him to actually do his business in his pants no problem. So it's wasn't just my day, but on second thoughts, I never thought I'd grow up and remember the whole thing and find it so hilariously funny... thanks to the other twin. And God bless the twins... seeing that I think He cannot even bless me on my own.