Mason, the name I had a 50% chance of getting, why? Well because my brother had that same 50% chance. My parents decided that whichever one of us was born first would be named Logan, and the second Mason. And as it would happen I was the younger twin. 4 minutes separated us. 4 minutes my brother will never let me live down were the 4 minutes that got me my name. 

I personally count myself lucky for those 4 minutes. However, growing up as a twin was filled with many unpleasant things constant arguing and competition that drove our parents crazy. A consonant competitor for backyard football or finding out who can run home from the bus faster. Even the order in which people would say our names together Mason and Logan, or Logan and Mason was a hot-button topic echoing throughout our youth.  

“I got pulled up to varsity full-time today Dad”

“That's great! I'm really proud of you it’ll be a big step up but I know you can handle it. Congratulations.” 

I sat in the back of the car contemplating how I would ever be able to rival my brother's newest advance. I won't ever be able to catch up with him I am so far behind I thought the mere idea of making varsity as a freshman was far from my reach. it felt like an anchor dragging me down now as I pointlessly tried to catch up to my brother. 

Hearing my brother going out to play lacrosse in the backyard started to drive me further as I pulled out a textbook and calculator, working on extra schoolwork until I was sure that Logan had gone inside, the idea of being outworked by him being unbearable enough to get me to study for hours on end. 

It took awhile but feelings of jealousy and anger towards each other for whatever new achievement the other had accomplished were replaced by congratulations and appreciation. All because I know I wouldn't be the same person I am today without my brother.