One morning I was about to leave to go "into town" for something and I saw this one kid who looked like he was about 9 hanging around by himself. I asked him if he wanted to come to the store with me, and he got all teary and kept saying, "Really? You'll take me?"
Later that day, I was talking to the same kid, who I had never remembered seeing growing up...I had figured my mom adopted him recently. We were pushing rocks around in the dust in the driveway. He said to me, "You know, I think we are treated differently." And I said, "Treated differently than who?" He said, "Us boys are treated differently than you and Kelsey." My mom's husband (I guess he was my step dad?), who turned out to be my Uncle Bill (weird), was sitting on the front steps and kept creeping closer so he could listen to our conversation.
The little boy said he didn't think my mom loved him. I told him sometimes it takes some time for adopted children to be loved (even though that's not true in real life, usually) and asked him how long he'd been living with us. He said, "9 years". Then I started crying and realized this poor kid had been living with a family since he was born who acted like he didn't even exist and that I was his sister and I never even knew him.
Then my phone rang, and I woke up and I was actually crying.