Yep. And I throw my dog’s name in there, too.
Damn dogs! They’re always guilty of something! Even if you don’t know what it is. And they totally suck at creating good alibis. Some have good poker faces, but most don’t.
Make friends with a Veterinarian and have them implant the tracking chips used for dogs and cats. Wrist would be a good spot. You can buy the chips. No Vet needed.
And here’s the reader you’ll need.
Had a neighbor who had triplets, two identical & the third may as well have been. They were hellions once they got old enough - would switch beds in the middle of the night & Mom had to be a classroom mom as the school only had two classes of whatever grade, & again the girls would switch & rotate somewhat regularly
You joke but I have twin stepsons I met as adults. One lost a leg to cancer as a teen so I used to step on a foot to tell them apart (jokingly of course). They have aged quite differently thankfully.
See, I knew I was on to something! I’m still in the process of securing funding for experiments.
Nine kids in my family. I’ve been called everything imaginable. Brothers names, sisters names, pets names, “Hey you with the red shirt.” Endless possibilities.
The Vet refused to chip me before, but thank you for letting me know where to get chips and implanting device.
The question for me is, though, would anyone think to scan you? With pets, it’s done as a matter of course. With humans, well, you could have a chip implanted in to you, and unless I come across a tattoo on your body or some other outside instruction to scan you, it wouldn’t occur to me (at this point. – maybe down the line if this becomes not unusual.)
I once heard my mom go through all seven of her sisters’ names before reaching my sister. Fortunately, she only has three brothers, so I don’t get it nearly as bad.
And last Friday, I was working a food-service window at my church’s St. Patrick’s Day event. At one point, I did actually call out “Next! You, in the green shirt.”.
I was in line at a Jerry Garcia Band concert once. There were two people checking tickets at the door. One of them checked my ticket. I started to walk in, and the other ticket checker started to reach towards me for my ticket. The first one said to him, “I already got his ticket”. The second one looked puzzled, so the first one added “The guy in the tie-dye shirt.” Everyone in earshot burst out laughing. Probably 90% of the people in line were wearing tie dye shirts.
The Vet is not going to have the latest and greatest implants available anyway; e.g. https://dangerousthings.com/product/flexnt/ (no idea if this is even a particularly good one)
never mind.
I imagine that fraternal twins resemble each other considerably more than a 13-year-old and a 3-year-old who are siblings.
I vaguely recall something like this being a plot point in a novel where inheritance (of a title, in England) was at issue. Turned out someone had intentionally switched the boys at birth, and the one who expected to inherit was not the true heir, or something like that.
There was a pair of identical twin girls at my school. Up until 7th grade, they were in the same classroom (not mine). I could never tell them apart. Finally in 7th grade, things were mixed up, and one was in my classroom while the other was in a different one. After that, I could tell them apart easily though I could never say just how.
By high school, they hung with different crowds; I think one of them may even have changed her hairstyle.
That is basically the plot of Pudd’nhead Wilson.
Yeah, I was thinking of that as well. In that case, the stakes were even higher (slavery versus freedom). And the babies were not twins, just same-age infants who looked alike.
And that was the first (or one of the first) novels to use fingerprint identification.
I had twins in my high school that would have been identical, but one was blind. It was sad, because the mom doted on the blind daughter and figured the sighted daughter didn’t need much attention. The neglected twin became a deliquent and ended up in continuation school.
We also had identical twins in my neighborhood. Everybody called both of them “Twin.” As an adult, one accidentally cut off half his thumb, so they were no longer identical.
A sadly common scenario. Either the parents end up actively neglecting the healthy sib, or the healthy sib develops all sorts of second-class citizen psych issues.
This isn’t easy for any one of the participants. But doing it right seems extra-hard.