My mom and dad divorced when I was only one and a half years old.

We moved to my grandmother and grandfather, my mother studied and worked, and my whole family looked after me as much as possible. My father first visited me sometimes, and then he stopped coming.



When I was 2.5 years old, my aunt, who lived with my parents at the time, got married. And so it turned out that her future husband turned out to be my father’s heavy.



On the day she decided to introduce her future husband to his parents, in the house it was actively discussed, say, today we will come to Kolya (name changed)



And then, in the evening, the door opens, a guy enters, and I shout "Daddy" and jump on his arms.

Apparently, in my childhood brain, a chain was built that once Cole means daddy, and I rarely saw daddy and how he looked - apparently I did not remember.



Imagine yourself in the place of a guy - he comes to meet the parents of the bride, and to him from the threshold flies "daughter" and hangs on his neck))) Another would be confused, probably, but he said "well, daughter" and began to talk to me.



They have been married to my aunt for many years and have two children.

He danced with me at high school, cried at my wedding, and when asked how many children he has, he still says he still has an older “daughter.”