So Similar Yet So Different

The other day I came home from work and the Math Teacher greeted me at the door with a moony gaze, and a smokey, "Hi there baby."

"Oh, hi honey," I said. "I'm so glad you got here before Becky. This way she'll never know about our love."

And then her eyes actually made that camera zooming in and zooming out sound while she refocused, and allowed her brain to process that even though she thought I was her girlfriend, I was in fact, not her girlfriend. Worse. I was her girlfriend's sister.

Dun dun dun.

Next on General Hospital, the Buchannan family realizes Crystal isn't only the dog - she's the dog with their dead grandpa's brain! She's - grandpa dog! And only she knows where the family fortune is buried. . . and who's been sleeping with it.

After about five solid seconds of both of us frozen into place, the Math Teacher burst out into gravely, slightly embarrassed laughter, and I checked myself to make sure I didn't look as gay as she thought I did, and then started laughing so hard at her laughing so hard she fell over the back of the couch and made a slow roll to the floor, where she continued laughing on the floor, curled up into a fetal position, and somehow I ended up cry-laughing, and sitting on top of the kitchen table. Like, we needed to share the moment, but we needed to do it on completely different surfaces, because if we had both been standing on the carpet, it would be dirty.

Also, Becky and I:

We're not twins!

(To each other!)

But for some reason even our lovers can't tell us apart. The other day I saw John Krasinski walk into Becky's room "accidentally" while she was "changing" and now she's pregnant.

Anyway, the Math Teacher was watching TV when I walked in so she claims she was distracted and the way the shadow from the tree fell on my chest it gave the illusion of cleavage when I walked up the walk so that's why she thought I was Becky.

It's an honest mistake.

But if she thinks this is going to make climb into bed with her while she sings Glee songs and I try to pull my ninety five pound, adult-sized poodle into bed with us only to have the dog freak out and stand above us dutifully shaking paw-to-hand for a half an hour so someone will please, please, please help her off the bed and back onto her pillow bed on the floor where she belongs, while the Math Teacher continues singing Like A Virgin in a voice that can only be described as Kathleen Turner swaddled in marzipan - she's got another thing coming!