There seem to be some mighty strange things in this old world of ours; some so strange, in fact, as to be almost unbelievable. Of course, what strikes me as weird may not seem so strange to someone else.

Nevertheless, for years I’ve been reading that some pregnancies start out as twins but don’t end up that way. These twins usually are the sort that result from the division of an embryo early on but somewhere along the line one is reabsorbed into the other resulting in the birth of one child, only, (this type of pregnancy may result also in conjoined twins). That child may live to a ripe old age without ever realizing that his body includes material that once was part of his brother or sister. Is that strange or what?

Now, consider the following.

A Google News clip one morning several weeks ago proclaimed, "Man gives birth to own twin brother."

Whaaaat!?

The story was not co-opted from some lurid tabloid; it was reprinted from one of Britain’s respected daily papers; I don’t remember which one. Read on.

The news story said a man noticed that his waist was unexpectedly increasing. His doctor, however, said it was not a matter of grave concern and maybe he should go on a diet.

That didn’t work and the waist kept expanding.

The doctor considered the possibility of a malignant growth and suggested exploratory surgery. Given the glacial slowness of British medical care, however, before that could be done, the man’s waist had expanded to such an extent that the doctor was afraid his abdomen would rupture and he rushed him into an emergency operation. You can imagine the doctor’s amazement when he opened the poor man up and discovered a human fetus – nonviable, of course.

True or not true? I don’t know, but I did read it; I know that it came from a reputable source and everyone knows you can believe whatever you read in a newspaper.

Let’s move closer to home.

When I first read of disappearing twins, I began to suspect that I, myself, might harbor another little me. Why?

I am ambidextrous. Some things I do equally well with either hand. Some things I do with one hand rather than the other but it may be left for some and right for others. I can even write with either hand, though not as well with the left as with the right. If I were to practice, I probably could write equally well with either hand. That’s not saying much, though; my penmanship is nearly decipherable as it is, even I can’t read it at times.

I seem to be "ambi-brained," too, if there is such a word. My interests are, to say the least, eclectic, involving both the left and right sides of my brain; they run the gamut from philosophy, music and literature to mathematics and astrophysics.

Sometimes people tell me I even talk out of both sides of my mouth.

If I do something outrageous and someone reprimands me, I tell them, "The devil made me do it." In reality, though, it wasn’t the devil; it was the evil twin lurking inside me.

But really, I should know better; as great a problem as my mother had carrying me and bringing me into the world, she wouldn’t have survived two of us, either during pregnancy or in the years that followed.

Sometimes, when I’m up to my chin in work with no respite in sight, I moan, "I shoulda been twins." But everybody knows that the world isn’t ready for two of me.

Well, this has been a lot different from what I usually offer in this column; I hope you have enjoyed it.

By the way - April fool’s!