OK, time to clarify this tribble question which has been baffling the greatest minds of our generation, or something.
It is all about twins. Val’s brother and sister are twins. My dad is an identical twin. Given all of the Irish folk wisdom that we were being helpfully informed of – advice like: “it skips a generation” and/or “it is from the mother’s side” and so forth, our own little in-joke was that we would be having twins-cubed or twins-to-the-power-of-whatever. Then, as we were obviously fated to have a litter of twelve or so, we started referring to the imminent arrivals as ‘The Tribbles’. And if you do not pick up on that particular sci-fi reference then you are not as much of a nerd as Val and I evidently are.
When – with sighs of relief all round and clink of champagne glasses – our baby-scans ultimately revealed that we are actually only expecting the arrival of ‘uno bambino’ (well 97% sure, or whatever the relevant margin of error is) the collective appellation was duly shortened to ‘The Tribble’. Which it remains to this day, as we are nowhere near any idea of what to call our little person. Only three months remain to sort that out.