Looking Alike Doesn’t Come So Naturally
Brown markers. I remember having a small brown birthmark under my left eye, being an identical twin that was the only way people could tell us apart. If we took a brown marker and made a small dot under my sister’s left eye, you couldn’t even tell the difference. You wouldn’t think a brown marker could have such great significance.


At last, I was in kindergarten. It was time for Jenny and me to rebel against the rules and do something daring, something we had never done before. The thought of switching places with Jenny seemed utterly impossible. At that age, neither of us had done anything wrong in our whole life. We looked so much alike though, could we actually switch places without anybody noticing? What if someone found out we switched places, would we be in trouble? I didn’t want to get in trouble, but I wanted to do something extraordinary. I was tired of just being ordinary and always following the rules, so we decided. We had to do it.


The bathroom door was locked- Jenny and I were both sitting on the countertop, trying to perfect the small birthmark that I recreated on Jenny’s face with a thin brown Crayola marker. We were both giggling hysterically, trying to remember everything we had told each other about their own kindergarten class. There was no backing down now; I was going to spend my day pretending that I was Jenny, while Jenny pretended to be me. I was so nervous and excited you’d think I just got a new kitten.


I remember walking through the school doors, doing my best to hold in my laughter. We had made it all the way to the hallway where all the kindergarteners went to class and we both scurried off in opposite directions and got in line where we waited to get into class. At the time, we hadn’t realized that we foolishly forgot to put makeup over my small birthmark and it was clearly visible.


I waited at the back of the line. I could see Jenny’s teacher at the front of the line, greeting each student as they walked in as she did every day. I would just have to make it past the teacher; then I could make it the whole day. As I got closer and closer to the front of the line my heart started racing. Jenny had already made it into the classroom I usually would be attending, I was all alone. Finally, I was at the front of the line. I smiled at the teacher to mask my nervousness, I was one step into the room and it was already over.


“Wait a second,” my sister’s teacher called me back and studied my face carefully, “Is that a birthmark on your face?”


I could feel my face going hot, how could I be so stupid? I had forgotten to cover my birthmark. A lump rose in my throat, and tears swelled up my eyes. Back then, I cried about everything. Maybe if I lied she would let it go.


“No,” my voice sounded small, everyone was staring at me.


“You aren’t Jenny.” She looked at me sternly. Bad idea. I shouldn’t have lied. I just gave up, I looked down because I had failed and now Jenny and I were going to get in trouble.


I can’t recall exactly what happened after that, but I guess they called the principal, and the principal called my parents. Soon my parents, the principal, both our teachers, Jenny and I were all gathered together. I started crying because I thought I was getting in trouble. They told us that we couldn’t switch places again, and if we had been older we would have gotten in a lot of trouble. The day dragged on, we were both rather embarrassed for failing at our great plan to switch places. When we got home we both got scolded but the next day things were back to normal.


By the time I was in second grade my birthmark had faded to nothing. My sister and I had no easily noticed differences. Ignoring what the principals and teachers said years before, we decided to try switching places again. We succeeded and lasted the whole day without the teachers ever noticing or finding out. I’d say it was quite an accomplishment as a second grader.


In the end, a small birthmark that seemed incredibly insignificant was the reason that we failed. Sometimes, things so small that seem to have no importance at all have the greatest impact on everything. It’s the small things that matter the most. Sometimes you might feel insignificant, but you aren’t. I thought that small birthmark wouldn’t matter. It did.