Makes Life Interesting

As I sat down next to my sisters like I was in line for the guillotine Kevin snickered "OK bitches -- what the fuck is going on?"

Epilogue:

After a lot of tears, figurative arm twisting, yelling by the males, and two hellish nights, the guys got together and went out drinking telling the three of us "Not to wait up, and don't complain if we bring some whores back."

Fortunately they didn't bring whores back and were hung over the next day. While they were carousing Julie, Gail and I made a decision. We would once again, as we had many times earlier that weekend, admit that we had done wrong and once again apologize. Then we would tell them they had the best lives, including sexual, that any guys they knew and we would stick to the present arrangements, or the three of us would get divorces -- and custody of their precious kids.

To our surprise, when presented with the ultimatum when they finally sobered up the next day all three guys simply said "OK; but we're requiring you all to get distinctive tattoos on a normally visible part of your body. There will be no switching in the future; and you'll sign a post-nup to that effect and that no one in the families will ever be told."

Four months later things are great for all of us. The guys admit that the switch was better for their sex lives, and there is no way to tell us apart not only visually but by personality; only sexual proclivities distinguish us. In conformance with our sexual preferences I'm sporting a shark tattoo on my ankle, Norma (formerly Gail) a hawk, and Gail (formerly Julie) a butterfly.

We triplets and our husbands and kids occasionally socialize with our extended families; all of them sincerely believe we are who we assumed the identities of. Everyone seems content. We never told anyone of Dr. Hager's involvement.