Villa de Loon

By Tiber

In another case of one of our family members racing out into the world to embrace embarrassment, my sister-in-law, the so often inappropriately named Honor, threw a mega-fit this weekend at a little local photography studio.

She had entered the triplets into the studio’s “Magnetic Multiples” cute kids contest and, to no one else’s surprise, they had not even made it into the finals.

I’ve always been sure that the kids could do voodoo but maybe this time, their mother had convinced them that their personalities would win the day.

She should have gone with the voodoo.

So she let those poor photography people know in ripe terms how fixed she thought their contest must be since it left out her three clearly superior munchkins.

The people got Honor a chair and tried to calm her down. In the meantime, the triplets got bored sitting in the car and came inside. When Honor turned and saw her kids right there, she shrieked and leaped up, knocking the chair over and twisting her ankle, all in a frantic effort to get away.

I think she sort of made the studio’s point herself.

Of course, she told the kids they’d just surprised her. But we all know the triplets would have the same effect on anybody, even if they issued one of those screeching civil service messages on TV warning the populace of their exact time of arrival.

By Tiber　

We got a call that one of my brother Duncan’s triplets was stuck. Again.

This time it was Shirley who’d gotten her head wedged in a neighbor’s mailbox. The other two siblings, surprisingly for them, were at least trying to pull her out. Mostly, though, they were just stretching out her neck.

Somebody called us, since even neighbors who don’t know the triplets personally, all know of them.

My sister-in-law hurried over. She also took Mom, the triplets’ grandmother, which was smart since Mom, unlike the rest of us, actually possesses some actual, if vague, charm.

Mom assured the neighbor, whose mailbox her granddaughter’s head was stuck in, that a frightened little bird had undoubtedly flown into the box accidentally and the children were trying to free it. And I think Mom may have even believed that.

It’s always better if the kids’ mother, Honor, doesn’t speak at all. She did try to smile at the neighbor, which was disturbing enough since Honor’s “pleasant” face tends to resemble the Frankenstein monster posing for modeling shots.

The emergency guys soon arrived and they freed Shirley and her head.

Since Duncan actually named his three children Lauren, Shirley and Bo and since this is easily the 4000^th time that the emergency squad has had to free a triplet from something stupid, I wouldn’t blame them at all if, instead of referring to their invaluable “Jaws of Life,” they simply went ahead and started saying that, for us, they’ll be bringing along their necessary and all-too-appropriate equipment, the “Jaws of Stooge.”

By Tiber

Someone at my brother’s triplets’ school made the mistake of showing them how you can fold paper and then cut it to create a chain of children attached to each other.

The triplets decided to recreate one of these chains in real life and using two sets, they handcuffed themselves to each other.

I don’t know where in the house they actually found the handcuffs and since my parents have been hosting a group of good friends for the week, no, I’m not going to ask.

The kids had festooned themselves like a garland over a mantelpiece but they didn’t get quite the impressed reaction they’d wanted when my mother came in, saw them, gasped in horror and cried out for Dad.

My father came hurrying in, took one look at his handcuffed grandchildren and then rushed over to give my mother a big hug.

“Oh, Gwen! Well done! Cuffing them! What a great idea! They’ll be so much easier to keep track of!”

My gentle and elegant mother then hit him with the piece of stationery she was holding. What was she going for? A paper cut? But it showed just how annoyed with him she was.

Dad finally got it that the kids had done this to themselves and he helped them down. He had to call the fire department, though, to get the handcuffs off. And even they had to use industrial-strength metal cutters because the cuffs were made of hardened steel.

Quite a crowd of family members, guests and staff had gathered by this time to watch. It would have gone a lot faster if somebody had just offered up the keys but when asked if anybody had them, a truly mind-boggling number of eyes suddenly started staring casually up at the ceiling.

Evidently, just one night around here could have supplied Houdini for a lifetime.