Introduction

I shall indtroduce us first, if I don't you won't get anything of our story.
We're not a normal family you see.
For a beginning: I'm fifteen years old. "Good for you, is that so special?" No, that's not special, but my sister is fifteen too. "Oh, you're twins! How cute." And my brother is fifteen too. "Triplets! That's special indeed! Do you guys look a lot like eachother?" No, not at all.
We've had this conversation over a hundred times. It makes you screaming mad. We never tell people we're triplets out of ourselves. Especiall not because after that people allways say: "Well, your mother must have a busy life then, with three teenagers running around the house!"
And then we have to answer them: "No she doesn't, because we don't have a mother."
"Ooooh, how sad! You poor kids! No mother! Blablabla..."
And that's something we don't enjoy doing every day. When we were younger it used to be pretty handy. People gave you candy and cookies real quickly. Or if we were to late for school again, we used it as and excuse. But we don't do that anymore.
After the mother question, people come to us with: "Can your father hadle the three of you."
Simple answer: "No, he can't. But we can take excellent care of ourselves. And of him." But we never say that. We always say: "Yes ofcourse, it's going great!".
our Father's name is Namikaze Minato.
"Wat!? The Namikaze Minato!?"
Yes that one.
There's only one thing my father can do good: Writing.
His booksare getting sold all over the world. They make movies of them and dad has got many awards. When people hear who our father is, they immediatly get those dollar signs in their eyes and you can hear them thinking: 'that family must be madly rich!'
And we are. So? Sometimes I wish we weren't. Exept for buying all the clothes I want, I get more trouble then fun from it.

Note:
PIG! Don't touch the chips
or I'll KILL YOU!
sak.

We don't really have a pig running through the house. Although she is starting to look like it... Pig is my sister, and she will eat everything that's edible or not. Because of that tic she's kinda fat, but she pretends she doesn't care. The only thing that's important to her is being the best in everything. She's allways covered in books so she won't hear you. Or she's pretending not to hear you. That's pretty annoying. But underneath that inscrutable outside, there's a terrible sweet inside. She just doesn't show it. Se hides behind fatrolls and A+'s.
Ofcourse ther real name isn't Pig. We just got these idiotic names by birth from our grandmother. Pig's real name is Ino Aurora. Make's you shit your pants laughing now doesn't it? A japanese girls name combined with that terrible european queens name. Ino is the japanese word for Hog, or Pig. And since the name Pig seemed to suit her and her eating behaviour perfectly, we kept it that way.

Note:
To! Can you pleaaaaaase
make your famous macaroni
chease today!!
(with more chease than
healthy? D)
sak.

My brother's name is Naruto. Actually it's Jean-philip Naruto, but it should be a crime to give your kids such a name! When we were young we use to call him Pip or To. We actually call him Naruto this days, because without the Jean-philip part his name doesn't even sound that stupid. He started talking when he was four. Naruto isn't as fast as the rest with everyting, and he got bullied with that a lot (not when Pig is arount him, then the bullies would become the victims, she's strong ass hell!) Naruto is still in 7th grade, while Pig and I are allready in 9th. He's not stupid! He's just different. He's really handy, he can draw like an artist, he's very creative and he can cook like a chef! Wich is great because ordering a pizza is only good for like... twice a week.

Note:
SAK! You shopmonster!
don't go shopping after
school! Leave your CC
at home!
pig.

Well, my name is sakura or sak as you've heard. Actually it's sakura-Mariah... but you know how I think about those dumb names now. When I was born I didn't weigh more then a pack of sugar. Can you imagine? I was so small everyone thought I was going to die. But I didn't die... mom did, but we don't have to talk about that now.
I'm still the smallest kid of three. But I've always ben the quickest and the fiercest. People don't get me down.
CC means credit card, everyone has one in this family. To do groceries and stuff. Pig calls me a shopmonster because I'm addicted to clothes. They give me self-confidence, so I need a lot! The newest and the hippest.

Note:
DAD!!
clean socks, shave, brush your teeth,
have breakfast!! (and not in your room!)
sak.

Our father isn't like other fathers. First of all he works at home, in his office. He wears earplugs at all times, so we won;t bother him with our noise. Two, he pretty much never never never ever leaves that office, and when he does he does it at night. Three, the poor soul has a writer's block for over three years, and that's a long time. A writer's block is someting terrible. It means you're spending days and nights behing your computer without getting any ideas for a novel. The delete button is worn down. He's stuck, he says himself (my father's head, not the button). He's stuck so badly that he get's headache's from it. He has that a lot.
I think he has a writer's block because he never leaves that office. He doesn't see anything. My father doesn't like people that much. They make him nervous. He saw through them. He saw they were only nice to him because he was rich and famous.
Luckely he loves us. And we love him.
He loves it when the three of us are with him in his office. Most of the time we're lying on the big sheeps hide in front of the fireplace. The fire was on during the summer and the winter, day and night, because dad is always cold. When we were younger we used to tell him everything we had done that day. We're not doing that anymore. When you're fifteen you don't wanna tel your dad what you've been up to all day. And you don't want it to get in one of his books either. He used to use our storys a lot. If we did something stupid, it was published half a year later, writtin' in such a way it could make everyone laugh. Except for us. Maybe it's our fault he has a writher's block... or maybe it's mom's fault. I'd rather not blame her.