Found a picture of my step-brother Davy and myself---I think we are maybe nine years old here. We were introduced in a weird way.
Nice day of Tic-tac-toss with trash burning in the background...
My parents were divorced, and some weekends and school breaks my dad would take my sisters and me for a bit. On one visit my dad introduced us to a woman and her two boys, and then one day (can't remember if it was a separate visit) he announced that he had married her.
By then we'd played with the boys a bit and thought, well, okay, we have brothers now. I remember thinking it was odd that there was nothing gearing up to this announcement, no wedding for us to see or anything. It was just suddenly a fact.
Sisters with new brothers. I'm the sea monster on the left. I have a bubblegum cigar
in my front pocket for some special occassion.
It's funny to watch a movie now where kids fight with the parents and pout about them dating again or remarrying, as I remember my opinion on the matter not being a factor---actually just not much time for it to sink in, as BAM it was so. Not complaining, though. It was really surprising, but somehow we pretty quickly accepted this new marriage and happened to enjoyed our new brothers.
However... Sometimes you don't realize how much something bothers you, of course, until much much later in life. When I watched the movie "Mrs. Doubtfire," and the dad gives a speech at the end about moms and dads sometimes not being able to work things out, I burst into ridiculous and unreasonable tears.
"You know some parents, when they're angry, they get along much better when they don't live together. They don't fight all the time, and they can become better people, and much better mummies and daddies for you. And sometimes they get back together. And sometimes they don't, dear..."