There Was Parkour, Too

He was dressed like a punk rocker. We all watched his brisk-stepped approach and our jaws dropped, one by one. The organizer looked alarmed.

“It’s nice that he’s allowed to be himself,” said hubby.

The young man was wearing an oversized black leather jacket with the words “I mock because you shock” written on the back. The leather jacket was paired with ripped black jeans and there were several metal chains hanging from his pockets.

A punk rocker with a cockatoo’s haircut was certainly not what we had been expecting as the instructor of a 4-6-year-olds’ parkour event.

The babes watched him acceptingly, except for one who ran behind a grey object they would later be jumping on, and hid.

The instructor was holding what looked like a beer can but it was probably a water container. Prejudice was playing mind tricks on us viewers, but they soon evaporated when he started his class. It turned out, he was great with kids! And when he jumped, all those pocket chains never made a sound.

The class started with him asking the kids and parents to sit in a circle. I had already assigned myself spectator status, so it was hubby who would try the parkour class, and I think he was secretly loving it. Sitting in a circle, everyone was to say their name and whether they’d tried parkour before.

The dad before our family said his name was Nick, and he’d never tried parkour but he’d watched several videos. Then came the kid, and he introduced himself as Charlie. What was remarkable about this was that these happened to be the exact names of the dad and one kid in our family! What were the odds?

(This feels like a good moment to add that all names have been altered in this story to protect our internet privacy. The names are fake, but the story is real!)

So onward then: it was our family’s boys’ turn. Hubby said, “I’m Nick, too” and then it was our Charlie’s turn. I was sitting too far away to hear, but hubby later told me that to his utter astonishment, Charlie had decided to give his twin brother’s name, instead of his own. Hubby’d had to double check to make sure which boy was speaking.

Why did Charlie say he was his brother?!

We have no idea. Maybe he thought he couldn’t possibly be Charlie, since there was already a Charlie in the group? Charlie isn’t a very common name over here, so the poor boy was probably just stunned. Later on, he claimed to have forgotten his own name, but I don’t quite buy that. Maybe we should have given him a more common name, so he would hear it more often.

“I’m Geoff,” said Charlie.

The punk rock instructor turned his gaze to our second kid, who in turn was puzzled. What should he say now?! Hubby described the situation as extremely awkward, and from my seat I could see Geoff squiggling and hiding under his cap.

After a very long pause, at least ten seconds, Geoff whispered, “I’m Charlie.” The introductions continued and the event moved on. Hubby assured me that he had been prepared to step in had they both introduced themselved as Geoff. Can a family even have two Geoffs? Would it be very weird if, on top of having the same first name, they looked quite similar, too?

The whole thing made me admire the real Geoff’s quick thinking. He made an on-the-spot decision and he’s only five! It also made me wonder how easy it would be for them to cover for each other later on in life. Without having had a chat or any kind of briefing, one brother was willing to fake his own identity for the sake of the other!

You always hear urban legends of identical twins swapping classes or dates just for the heck of it. But what I really wonder is whether there are any grown-up twins who have swapped jobs for a day? Would anyone notice? If you know any who have, please let me know how it went.