So from now on, on that issue, my lips are sealed.
Besides, last weekend I was stressed and depressed - not only at the thought of losing an hour's sleep thanks to daylight saving, but because it was my birthday.
For most, this would be a joyous occasion and a cause for celebration. But most people don't have three lifeforms, two of which can barely stand to be in the same room together.
When the clones' paths are forced to cross, tensions run higher than those seen in the Middle East - I kid you not.
I was all for letting the day go by unmarked. The absence of drama was all the gift I needed; I was gunning for a ceasefire.
I'd tried people - God knows I'd tried ... in previous years, when my spawn would ask what I wanted for my birthday, year upon year I would reply "a quiet day" and, year upon year, I would be promised they would behave for the two hours or so we would be together to share in a meal and cake.
Year after year I would be disappointed, so this time round I was adamant. No gifts, no cards, no celebration and, to prove I meant business, no jumbo cheesecake.
At the eleventh hour, however, I relented and agreed to enter into peace talks. Though neither party was prepared to wave a white flag, they again promised me a truce. Two whole hours where - both assured me - they would be on their best behaviour.
I was naturally sceptical - I'd heard it all before - but in a last-ditch attempt to show willing, I agreed on the condition that we celebrated on the Saturday night so that if war was to break out, I still had Sunday (my actual birthday) to have the quiet day I always wanted. I threatened stiff penalties and sanctions imposed for any failures to comply with my strict demands.
Messages were relayed back and forth to the warring factions, conditions were laid out and the ground rules were agreed upon. It was a huge risk, made even riskier by the fact that two innocent civilians (girlfriends) would be present also.
They were made aware of the risks and both bravely agreed to attend.
With no time to dig out an underground bunker or prepare full body armour, the withered old crone and I removed all sharp objects, whipped up a batch of home-made pepper spray and put the AOS on speed dial.
I was all for paper plates and plastic cutlery but the withered one insisted on the fine china and glassware. I prayed the contents insurance was up to date.
As late as Saturday afternoon, I was still offering Clone the Elder an exit strategy. I would go and put in an appearance on enemy soil, then return with the spoils in a doggy bag, but he wanted to see it through and was committed to the terms of the ceasefire.
My stomach was in knots. I headed out of our compound early in the afternoon to get the provisions required for dessert. My beloved cheesecake was replaced by two large pavlovas, four litres of icecream, strawberries and cream with chocolate and butterscotch sauce.
In peace talks earlier, we had all agreed to a huge Chinese banquet, so on my way back to barracks I stopped and ordered eight separate dishes. This tactic would help minimise the risk of serving spoons clashing, thereby averting injury and possible loss of life.
With just the food to collect, I had done all I could do. The ceasefire was scheduled to start at 20.00 hours. A little before, Clone 1 and I got in our armoured vehicle, picked up dinner and made our way cautiously into enemy territory, mindful of possible booby traps and ambushes.
We made it safely inside, without triggering trip wires or standing on landmines.
I still don't know how or why, but the ceasefire remained in place until after 22.00 hours. Maybe it was the presence of civilians, but I even managed to have both clones in the same car when Clone 2 accompanied us as I taxied his girlfriend home. Even laughter rang out on the battlefield. It was extraordinary.
I'd waited 17 bloody years for this day and, a week later, I'm still in a state of disbelief. Despite the fact it was only about two-and-a-half hours, I feel justified in adding conflict resolution and trained negotiator as skills to my resume.
Zero deaths and not a casualty in sight - so new business idea: PlaKATE Peacekeeping Ltd.
All in all, best birthday ever, celebrated again on Sunday with cheesecake supplied by Emma. If you need my services, please email me. investik8@gmail.com
Kate Stewart is an unemployed, reluctant mother of three, currently addressing the UN peacekeeping force and polishing off the cheesecake
