A case of mistaken identity: The babies’ edition (still just a draft)

My twin brother, now named Tyler, was once named Adam.I was once named Blake.

But before then, I’ve been told, we were called baby A and baby B, namely because the many people who cared for us couldn’t tell us apart, even though we were just fraternal twins.

But when you look alike at foster homes, you get nicknames — nicknames that define you, which is fitting, considering that A and B are the first and second letters in the alphabet. You can probably guess in which order we were born.

Even if you know us, you’d probably still have trouble telling us apart in the photo above. I’m not even sure if I’m in blue (maybe I am, for Blake) or if I’m in that other onesie, whatever color it is.

Anyways, my brother and I grew to understand that our likeness could be used for good and for bad, just like the superheroes and villains in comic books, which we also grew to love. And because the people who cared for us liked to constantly dress us in the same shirts and pants, we had an unusually large assortment of clothes to practice our craft.

My brother, being the villain, and I, the hero or anti-hero, or so I’d like to think, would sometimes fool our teachers because we were repeatedly putting on the same clothes.

One day in first or second grade, after being dressed alike again, we gathered for recess and plotted a scheme to switch classes. It didn’t hurt that Tyler also liked…