The Gift Of Using Their Eyes

When I am sixteen, I am a counselor at a summer camp. I have twins in my group. Let’s call them John and James.

John and James are identical twins. They are the same height and weight, have the same friends, and play the same sports. No one can tell them apart. Except for me.

The twins enjoy messing with the counselors and find it funny when they can’t tell them apart. Every few days, some counselors try.

One of them is convinced they have slightly different eyes. She usually guesses wrong.

Another is convinced that John is half an inch taller than James. This is wrong also.

Every time we play, I get it right. I also always get their names right when I have to call out to one of them. It baffles everyone.

On the last day of camp, the director comes up to me.

Director: “I have to know. How can you tell John and James apart?”

Me: “There are very subtle differences between them. It’s hard to notice.”

She starts laughing.

Director: “Come on, [My Name]. Tell me.”

Me: “All right. But you can’t tell anyone.”

She closes the door to her office and runs back to her desk.

Director: “I promise I won’t tell.”

I start laughing.

Me: “[Director], I don’t have a gift. It’s not a magic trick. John wears black sneakers and a blue bathing suit. James wears red sneakers and a red bathing suit. That’s how I can tell them apart, even in the pool.”

The director stares and starts laughing. 

Director: “THAT’S IT?! This whole time I thought you had a gift!”