Meet my Twin F***ing Sister



Pat (left), Pam (right), 6 years old, 1961

This is the story of adorable little twin girls, born many moons ago, on October 11th. One was named Patricia Ann (moi), and one was named Pamela Jean. In fact, we were born on our brother, Bob's birthday. He's been mad at us every since. He was only 2 years old at the time. Imagine how he felt receiving a baby sister as a birthday gift? Scratch that. TWO baby sisters? And you know how the new baby gets all that attention. Could you imagine the attention that twins drew? Especially over 50 years ago? My, my, we were almost like a circus attraction.

I don't have our baby picture to show you. It is packed away. But I must have always been the one on the left (as you look at the photo). In the baby picture, I am grinning like an idiot, and Pam's eyes are as wide as saucers. As my mother described it, we were both crying and the photographer started making goofy faces. I adored him, being that he was a man, and Pam had the expression on her face as if to say, "WTF?" Nothing has changed folks, nothing has changed.

By the time Pam and I were born, my mom had had 4 live births. Ann 12, Mickey, 8, Linda, 3 1/2, and Bobby 2. When my mother was pregnant with us, she knew she was having twins. She was experienced enough! She told the doctor that she was carrying twins. She said that she felt two heads (oh no - a monster!), two butts (whew!), and many limbs. The doctor only heard one strong heart beat. There was only one conclusion - my mother was wrong, and we were one big, healthy boy. You see, our heartbeats were synchronized. But to satisfy my mother, the doctor ordered x-rays. Yes, you read that right. They didn't have ultra-sounds back in the day. So now you know why I am a little lu-lu. Because my parents didn't have a phone, my Dad had to walk to the corner drugstore to call the doctor and get the results. Bingo! Two babies in dat der womb!

I came out head first, weighing in at a little over 6 pounds. Pam was breech, but luckily I opened up the way for her, so there wasn't any complications. The way I look at it, she owes me big time. But as you read on, you'll see that she's been saving my lily white ass all my life.

Pam weighed a little over 5 pounds, but lost a few ounces to drop her under the hospital's regulation weight for bringing a baby home. So Pam had to stay in the hospital for a few days in the incubator (like a baby chick) till she gained the weight. Mom brought me home alone. It was a hard day for her.

For awhile my sister and I slept in the same crib, and drew comfort from each other. As we grew, my mother had to get another crib. My mom told me that I usually did things first, like crawling and walking. Pam would watch me, and then within a few days she would follow suit. Feeding times were interesting. We'd both cry, but Mom would feed Pam first because, according to Mom, I would wait patiently. This truly fits our personality. Pam is full of piss and vinegar. I'm more complacent.

Mom said that Pam and I had our own language. We'd talk amongst ourselves and nobody else could understand us.

Pam was always skinny growing up and I was always regular. I would absolutely HATE when people would say to me, "Are you eating your sister's food?" I never had a weight problem growing up. In fact, I had a pretty good shape.



Pat (left), Pam (right), 5 years old, 1960


Although Pam was small in size, she was a tiger. I remember one time, maybe we were in 6th grade, we went to a nearby park. A heavy set girl wanted to beat the crap out of me because her boyfriend had whistled at me when I had walked down the block. Now, I had not flaunted anything, believe me. I was wearing a red/white checkered button down shirt and white shorts. Why do I remember what I was wearing? Because the bully girl made fun of my shirt! I was pretty scared because I was, and still am, a wuss. But there was my skinny twin sister, who jumped off the swing, and was in the fat girl's face yelling at her and telling her to leave me alone! I was in awe! I guess half the battle is not showing you are scared! The girl left the park, and we went home. I didn't leave the house for two weeks because I feared she'd find me and beat me up if Pam wasn't around to protect me!

FAST FORWARD ABOUT 15 YEARS

Pam and I were out and about and she needed cigarettes. She told me to pull into the nearby gas station. I was driving a sporty Camero, and it was a beautiful summer day. We had the windows rolled all the way down. Pam ran in, bought her cigarettes, and jumped back into the car. I pulled to the edge of the driveway and looked both ways on the busy street. I saw a car coming on my left in the distance, but I figured that if I pulled out slow, and stayed in my lane, that it would be okay. So that's what I did. Well, I must have scared the bejesus out of the older gentleman who was driving in the left lane. He swerved his car way over into the other lane. It TOTALLY wasn't necessary, but hey, what can I say? The old guy started swearing at me, calling me every name in the book.

I said, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Here's my twin sister: "FUCK YOU! She stayed in her lane! FUCK YOU!"

And there, my friends, is the difference between my twin and me!

BUT, she had my back, didn't she?

A FEW YEARS LATER

My first marriage ended messily with husband cheating on me with whore young chicky babe. My twin went to said whore's house, to confront her, and possible beat some sense into her, if needed. (Although at that time my sister probably really felt that I was the one that needed the sense beaten into me for considering WANTING my cheating husband back!)Luckily for young chicky babe - she wasn't home. Either that or she was hiding behind the curtain shaking like a leaf, refusing to answer the door. Smart cookie. A slut, but smart.

PRESENT DAY

Pam's tamed down quite a bit. I mean, she hasn't beaten anybody up or anything. Her words are pretty powerful, and you wouldn't want to get on her bad side. But she is loyal till the end, love's her family, and will defend them ferociosly. And I should know. She's had my back since we were in the womb together.


Another quirk of hers is her tendency to put the "f" word inbetween words or syllables like "Happy F***ing Birthday", or La-dee-F**ing-dah, or absof**ckingtootly. You get the idea. She just cracks me up.

Pam has a heart of gold and has been known to give her last couple of bucks in her pocket to beggars on the street. The rest of us in the family will say, "Pam - you don't have any money for the rest of the week! Why did you give it away?" and she'd reply, "Oh - they looked like they needed it more than me."

One time while pulling up to the drive through window at KFC, a homeless person came up to her car window and asked if she'd buy him something to eat. She thought, "Oh, what the heck!" and ordered him some food. How many of us would do that?

So without further ado, here's my twin f**ing sister! Mwaah! Love you Pami!





We switched it up a bit. Pam's on the left, Pat's on the right, 54 years old, 2009
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