A step-dad who shows up. The man who chose the kid, the chaos, the school plays, and the long Sunday drives — without the asterisk.
"He's not my step-dad — he's my stad. He taught me to drive, to fish, and to apologize first."
Identity isn't a duty; it's a milestone. A 'Stad' isn't born on a wedding day — he's earned somewhere between the third Tuesday of chores and the seventh skinned knee.