One Shots #VariaSquad

Double Trouble

Varun P.O.V.

I stared at the two babies in front of me, utterly and completely confused. Both of my sons were dressed in the same outfit - and I mean exactly the same, right down to the bibs. Green babygrows with little baby jeans, the same blue socks and Pooh Bear bibs. Usually, the two boys had at least one item of clothing that would help me to identify them but today, they matched completely. I had never realised how much I'd relied on the colour scheme Alia had set up for them until I was faced with the impossible task of telling them apart without it. When she first told me to make sure I kept yellow on Zain and light purple on Sahil, I'd found it a little funny but agreed to it all the same, figuring it was a little thing to do to keep us both happy. Then, when I went to get them dressed this morning, I had seen the matching outfits Rohit had bought for them a few weeks back and decided to put them on - not thinking to differentiate by so much as a single sock. 

The boys stared back up at me, blinking at me like they knew exactly what was going on and giving me a look identical to Alia's Varun look. 'You're not even eight months old yet and you've already got that look down.' I muttered. They exchanged another look as if to say papa has no idea what he's doing, both of them giggling. 'You two are too smart for your own good.' I told them, earning another look. If they could, I imagine they'd roll their eyes at me but I was saved the embarrassment of having my kids show exactly how exasperated they were with me by the fact that they weren't old enough to do so as of yet.

The problem wasn't only that I'd completely disregarded the colour rules that help me tell the twins apart, it was also that I'd forgotten all the other rules as well. There was a mental list of them that I was usually careful to follow but, in my confusion - and slight panic - I had basically let them all go flying out the window.

Sighing, I placed the twins in one of the cots - that was going against one of the rules too but, at this point, it didn't matter - and sat in the rocking chair closest to Zain's side of the room; further from them but better for watching them and making sure they didn't get up to their usual mischief. Keeping a watchful eye on my two trouble makers, I ran through the checklist in my head.

1. Yellow on Zain and purple on Sahil
2. If 1 isn't a possibility, dress them differently
3. If they need changing at the same time, put them on their own changing tables or put one in his cot while changing the other.
4. When they get out of the bath, put them in separate cots.
5. Don't leave them in the same cot for extended periods of time unless you want trouble.
6. Don't, for the love of God, do not dress them in completely identical outfits.

The list was a work in progress; me and Alia had started making it the day the twins were born and we realised we have two identical baby boys and, for the first few months at least, we would have no ways to tell them apart. When they were about three months old and had started to explore, we had learnt that they loved mischief, thus had decided not to let them stay in the same cot whether it be for naps or to keep them in one place for short periods of time. Surprisingly, we had only added the rule about identical outfits recently; when we bought them clothes, we made sure they differed in colour or print or even character, hoping to save ourselves from the exact problem I was currently faced with. Logically, we shouldn't have needed that rule but we discovered that a lot of people liked the idea of twins twinning completely and had decided to buy matching clothes for the boys, not realising that - though it was cute to see - it made life hell on their parents. 

I had to admit, I had thought the idea was cute too, until I found myself in this mess. There had to be a way to tell them apart but I didn't know what. They could hardly talk, mostly they babbled with words like mumma, papa and doodoo thrown into the mix, so it wasn't like I could ask them who was who. As of now, they hadn't really developed different personalities, both of them were cheeky little mischief makers who were also very good at making you forget the trouble they'd made by giving you a toothless smile. Almost everything about them was the same; they liked the same foods, had reached their milestones almost at the same minute and often even seemed to have the same facial expressions at the same time. Their differences lay in things like their first words - Zain's had been mumma and Sahil's was papa - and the differences that we had made sure of - the soft toys they had been given, the sheets in their cots, the mobiles hanging above them, the colours of their clothes and blankets - none of which helped me in my current predicament.