The Department of Vital Statistics

I have a fabulous, uber-secret password
that I'm not sharing.
But it's really good.


Ok, so if I had twins, it would probably
take me 6 1/2 years to discover that they had, indeed,
been SWITCHED AT BIRTH.
Dun Dun Dun DU~U~N.

Here how I imagine it would go:

After many years of petty jokes and endless ribbing
about mixing up those identical twin boys,
I would blithely look at their birth certificates
on my way to registar Twin A and Twin B
at a new school for First Grade.

For the first time, I would notice that, hummmm,
Vital Statistics (aka. our dear dear government)
had documented that Twin B was born at 8:52pm,
while Twin A was born at 9:22pm.

Notice the descrepency: The letter "A" comes before "B"
in our alphabet.

I'd stare at the certificate and double check it--
then, yes, totally flip out.
Laughing and shouting incredulously, I'd show the documents
to my partner.
"Unbelievable."

Yet, I'd remember:
Twin A came out first and would be named __________;
I'd know because he didn't cry at his birth.
That would have worried me, and I would have remembered
him being rushed out into the neonatal unit.

Twin B would have arrived soon after, named __________;
I would remember his cry as being loud and strong--no worries.

Then, after I came down/up from sedation,
I would be told that Twin B, the second child, had a collasped lung
and was taken to a University Hospital . . .

so how did he cry so loudly? hmmmmmmmm . . .

The entire circumstances would leave me wondering . . .

then, because of my hive like mind-powers,
Twin B would probably pick up on my consternation, grin and ask:

"I'm still _________, right mom? I like that name . . . "