My father failed to pull out in time and so my twin and I were conceived. The year was 1936, the great depression was showing little sign of ending and my father had been out of work for a long time. About the last thing my parents needed was an additional child, much less twins.
Still, call it fate, pre-determinism, or simply a reluctance to terminate their carnal pleasure in a timely manner. In any event the population of our country increased by two.
I would like to say, the world as a result was forever changed; however unless my twin or I accomplish something really worthwhile in the very near future, it would probably be a bit of an over statement. Not-with-standing it would be fair to say, I for one never regretted being born and never really sympathized entirely with my parent's dismay at this event.