Sandy and Mandy were identical twins.  Green-eyed beauties with dark brown hair, a smattering of freckles, and charming dispositions. From the day of their birth, mom had dressed them in identical outfits. When they started school, she bought them identical backpacks, and pulled their hair into identical pony tails.

She bragged to everyone about how “exactly alike” they were and insisted they do identical chores and play identical games at the same time. She sent them to Gramma’s farm together every year.

And every year, wearing blue jeans faded to exactly the same shade, with pony tails riding at exactly the same height and identical green eyes gazing into the peaceful pond at exactly the same time, they stood on the old wooden bridge and dreamed — totally separate, independent dreams.

And Mom couldn’t do anything about it

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