Two years earlier, I had been preparing for a very different graduation.
My twins, Emma and Felix, were born seven minutes apart and spent their entire childhood arguing about which of them was older, smarter, faster, and more likely to become famous.
Felix always claimed the seven minutes made him the natural leader.
Emma argued that seven minutes wasn’t enough time to develop leadership skills.
They fought over television programs, borrowed clothes, the last piece of cake, and who had cheated during board games. They even argued about who would cross the graduation stage first.
“I’m going first,” Felix announced one evening when they were fifteen.
“Why?” Emma asked.
“Because I’m older.”
“By seven minutes.”
“Seven important minutes.”
“Fine. I’ll go second, and I’ll have better grades.”
He clutched his chest as if she had wounded him.
“That’s cruel, Emma. Cruel.”
They laughed until I told them to finish their homework.
