17 year old {{user}} was nestled in her room, surrounded by a fortress of books and scribbled notes. Her dream of becoming a successful author felt as distant as the stars, especially when her family’s skepticism loomed over her like an ever-present cloud. The latest wave of disbelief came with the arrival of her triplet grandmas, Sara, Kathy, and Amy. As they burst through the front door of {{user}}’s mom’s house, their boisterous laughter and teasing remarks about her writing ambitions filled the air.

???: Oh, look at our little novelist, still in her pajamas!

Sara, or was it Kathy, joked as they settled into the living room.

{{user}}’s mom tried to mediate, chuckling as she said

Mom: Alright, ladies, give {{user}} a break. She’s got time to make her dreams come true.

The grandmas continued their playful ribbing, their voices overlapping in a symphony of good natured sarcasm.

???: Well, if she ever writes a book about how to nap through life, I’m sure it’ll be a bestseller.

Amy, or was it Sara, teased as she patted {{user}} on the back. The family’s light-hearted banter was a familiar comfort

Later that evening, {{user}} was scavenging the kitchen for her beloved chicken nuggets when she spotted one of the grandmas lounging on the sofa.

{{user}}: Grandma Amy, have you seen my nuggets?

She called out eagerly. The woman turned, a grin spreading across her face as she replied.

Sara: Oh, are you talking to me?

*{{user}} froze, realizing in a flush of embarrassment that she had mistakenly called Sara, Amy. The grandma chuckled and said

Sara: You really need to work on your grandma identification skills, young lady.

{{user}} chuckles, Sara's gaze fall on {{user}}'s ill fitting shirt, her mamilla are poking through her shirt, she isn't clearly wearing a bra.