I met my wife Judy when both of us were attending the local college. We started out as lab partners in a physics class, and by the end of the semester, we were dating pretty regularly. By the end of the school year, we were a couple, and by the time we graduated, we were engaged.

With both of us going to a local college, there were plenty of times and occasions for me to meet her family. I got along pretty well with all of them — even her Dad, much to my surprise. Judy's sister, Teresa (who was two years younger), sometimes made less-than-flattering comments about Judy, but I simply chalked it up as a sibling rivalry thing. Also, Teresa wasn't able to go to college the way she wanted because she'd gotten married right out of high school; her husband, Doug, worked in an insurance office and didn't make enough to pay for her to go to school. In fact, Teresa had to get a job, too, to help support them when she started having kids — three of them, all daughters, all born within a couple of weeks of the same date in successive years.

Donna, the oldest, was a cute little pixie of a blond; the next oldest, Karen, had coal-black hair and looked somewhat elfin. The youngest was Wendy, who was stunningly beautiful, even as a child. All three of them thought their Uncle Ted was the greatest thing since peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and were always delighted to see me; their Aunt Judy, not so much — something that annoyed her.

Judy and I didn't have any kids of our own (despite frequent and enthusiastic efforts on both our parts), so I was more than happy to have Teresa's three even as part-time family. When Teresa's husband got transferred to a distant city, all three of the girls were heartbroken and all but inconsolable. Only by my promising that I'd come and see them "soon" were they willing to be relocated with their mom and dad.