December 28. Day 363. The black sheep

 Some years back, my teenager was sitting in his high school classroom watching a documentary about an elite athlete. Her coach was interviewed, a bloke with the name Michael Hetherington. "That's my uncle," Drama Teen said and the class expressed total disbelief. There may be the same surname but a fit, tanned, sports professional could not possibly come from the same gene pool as my pasty white drama loving boy. And yet the musical theatre and novel hating Michael Hetherington is indeed my full biological brother, unless there was a hospital or milkman mix up. Weird things families. Those who doubted the relationship between uncle and nephew would have laughed out loud if they'd seen my boy and Michael's kids Jessie and Connor together. Those bronzed Aussie kids who joined us a the beach today are like chalk and cheese next to my son - until the games come out. When the Uno cards hit the table the same crazy competitive streak is there. You really can't judge a book by its cover (unless you are my brother who judges all novels as unworthy to be read. I must ask my mum again about the milkman ...).