Blood is Thicker than Water Under the Bridge

The story about the stabbing came in my RSS feed, with no picture.  They described the the attacker as being tall and heavyset, unshaven, with brown hair.  The description matches my first stepson (or at least it did the last time I saw him.)  I read further and find that the name is the same, too.

No, it wasn’t him, but it does set me to wondering.  This year, he turns the same age I was when I first met his mother.

There’s bad blood; I don’t really want to know how he his.  Yet, I can’t help but wonder.

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