RICHARD IRVINE Relatively speaking, good traits are all in the genes
A flurry of shoppers in the corner of the store caught my attention as I collected the usual diet of chicken nuggets and chips for my children. They were all fervently grabbing luxury trifles, which had been marked down in price to far below their exclusive status.
By the time I made my way to the front, they were all gone, apart from one that someone had dropped upside down, but the scene brought to mind my relatives lining up to claim the abilities, attributes, and attractive features of the twins.
I’m losing track of who’s got what so far, but I do know Victoria’s dad claimed Thomas’s ability to build Lego houses.
And there is some truth to this given his job as an electrical engineer and ability to build circuit boards.
My family, specifically my mother, has decided Emma’s sportiness comes from her. Again, I wouldn’t disagree given my mum was a gymnastics star (in her small village).
One more is Victoria’s claim on Thomas’s artistic ability, which is indisputably from her side of the family.
I struggle to draw breath sometimes, and nobody in possession of my genes has ever painted with anything other than a roller and a tin of Dulux.
My dad’s put a marker on Thomas’ mathematical ability and, since he’s an accountant, I’ll go with that.
“We couldn’t go on The Traitors and pretend we’re not related, Thomas looks just like me,” Victoria announced, when I suggested it as a way of boosting household funds.
On this I disagree, he looks like me when I was his age. Not now because time is a cruel mistress and if he did look like me, we’d never be out the doctor’s and there’d be a documentary in the making.
Victoria’s mother says Thomas’s ability to concentrate on a task comes from her. I hate to disagree, but it’s from my brother, who has an incredible ability to focus on a task, if he finds it interesting. Everyone is very happy to assume ownership of the twins’ positive characteristics, yet nobody wants some of the more controversial features.
Relatives prefer to attribute those genes to a different member of the family, which is exactly what I did when I bought the lone, slightly messy trifle left by everyone else, for Victoria.
For example, I complained to my mother that Emma doesn’t listen to anything when you’re telling her to do something. “She gets that off her grandad, he doesn’t listen to anything I tell him to do either,” my mother responded.
There’s a lot more to say in regards to who’s responsible for Thomas’ messiness or Emma’s occasional rudeness, but for the sake of family relations, I’ll leave it at that one insult levelled at my own father.
Nobody in possession of my genes has ever painted with anything other than a roller