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

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

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

I’ve always been like that.

Gun owners, imagine if an attacker comes to your home and takes your gun to use against you before you had the chance to pick it up. Would you regret owning a gun?

“Can I have a gum?” she asked.

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

“Out of my mouth?” I asked.

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

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She even used my tooth brush once.

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

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.

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

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“Give me half of yours,” she said.