Every year we have the same tradition, we go purse shopping in January and the coolest part is, we always buy each other the exact same purse. Usually it’s the same color, but this year Melody ended up with the brown patchwork design and I carried home the green pocketed bag.

Same brand. Same design on the inside. Same pockets. Just a different color.

I’d have a brown one too, except the store only carried one in that color.

Minutes before our decision, we’d discovered the lone brown tote on the shelf, its silent call said ‘buy me’ and it reached out to us about the same instant.

Our twin—senses zoned in for the claim and Melody said, “I know you like this one. Here you take it.”

I immediately knew she was not telling the trust, another twin sense I’ve developed over time. She was drooling over the bag as she handed it me, so I told her she could have it.

“I love the green bag instead.”

Now I’d just lied to her. But it was fine, really—she knew it. My generous nature kicked into gear, I let her have her way. Oh gosh, another lie, I’m not terribly generous.

I gave in because I remember how she used to beat me up as a kid whenever I balked at her, or got in the way. She was used to getting her way, winning.

And I was used to relinquishing my rights.

Lifetime habits are hard to discard; I simply turned into that little girl who let her sister reign. I actually didn’t mind, since the green bag was my second choice.