"Jon, I made these barbecue ribs just for you. Eat up."At the dinner table, my wife's stepbrother, William Small, kept piling food onto my son Jonathan Barkley's plate. The fatherly affection in his eyes was impossible to miss.A moment later, he got up and walked over to the couch, returning with a robot toy set. "This is for you. Do you like it?"Ten-year-old Jonathan thanked him politely. "I love it. Thank you, Uncle William."William grinned from ear to ear, while I watched the scene quietly. Ever since my wife gave birth to Jonathan, William would drop by our house every few days. Later, for convenience, he simply moved in with us, claiming he wanted to help take care of Jonathan so I could focus on work.Everyone knew how much he loved Jonathan. Our friends even joked that he cared about the kid more than I did, even though I was his father. Our relatives often praised him as a wonderful uncle, saying that with his help in raising Jonathan, I had much less to worry about.
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