Three years and two days ago, Max got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I happily said yes, knowing that I was really agreeing to marry into a family. I gained the promise of two stepsons that night.
It was a very sweet moment.
Little could I have imagined that three years later, in the middle of dinner, my younger stepson would announce, "I've gotta go home and change. These pants are really crushing my nuts."
The moral of this story is:
Right around Year 3 is when things start to get really good.
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