“My God, she’s almost four,” he realized suddenly. “My sister is only three years older than me, and sometimes that seems like too much of an age difference.”
“Even if there was a bun in the oven today,” he resumed, “her sibling would be four and a half years younger. And there is no baking going on.”
In an instant his mind was burdened with memories from childhood. His sister was always there. Concerning his brother, if he had any memories from before Sam was born, he chalked them up to false-memories anyhow. He does remember his brother being born, though. He remembers it because, of all reasons, McDonald’s. Jerry–watching him for the day–took him to McDonald’s and the happy meal came with a Detroit Lion’s player’s trading card. It was awesome. (Sam turned out to be cool as well.)
All the pride and certainty that he felt about his parenting skill vanished upon full recognition of the result of his selfishness.
“It’s cut and dry. She’s going to miss out because of me. It’s as simple as that. Am I too picky? Too jaded? Too rational?” he asked himself, alone.
Then it hit him. He was out of his element. With the right woman, he may have been able to fake it ’til he made it regarding a traditional family. But now? Now a traditional family was as ethereal as the end of a rainbow. He knew he must acknowledge that.
“Done,” he acknowledged.
“Step two,” he recited, “Gather all the information.”
“Non-traditional family. How is that going to look? What can I learn from others as I try to start mine? And another thing,” he thought anxiously, “Why do I feel like I should keep this create-a-new-family desire away from public scrutiny? That’s gotta change.”