The third grader appraised me silently before she approached.
“Do you have a sister in high school?” she asked.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Does she go to Lakeview?”
“No, she’s in Lincoln.”
“Oh,” she was visibly disappointed. “Because I saw someone who looked just like you at Lakeview last night.”
I laughed and explained that I must have a doppelganger in town–which led to a fascinating discussion about doppelgangers with a group of three third graders.
“Does everyone have a doppelganger?” one girl asked.
I was refilling my water bottle, minding my own business, when the resident’s comment forced my attention.
“How are things in Neligh?”
A bit confused, I answered “I’m sorry?”
“How’s your family?”
“They’re doing well, thank you.”
“Is your dad still…”
He must have seen the confusion on my face, for he stopped and explained.
“There’s a really good Christian man with nine or ten children in Neligh–and, well, you look just like his oldest daughter.”
“Oh, sorry–I’m just the second of seven, not the first of nine or ten.”
I laughed it off, wondering how much my full skirt and long hair had to do with the mix-up.
I can go months, even years without being mistaken for someone else (or having someone else mistaken for my sister)–yet I ended up with two doppelganger sitings in as many weeks.
Has anyone ever told you that you have a doppelganger?
Yup. I got stopped once by a lady who very sincerely believed I was someone she hadn’t seen in a very long time (and apparently liked very much, thankfully). I can’t forget it because she called me Julie, which was the name of my best friend in law school. And we sort of looked alike, but not quite. Anyway, it was kind of cool and I walked away sorry that I wasn’t Julie, for her sake.