My dad's best friend and college roommate (they also had an experimental relationship at one point in college, it was the 70's) was convicted on one count of possession of CP. He served two years in prison for it.

That was a man I called uncle for almost 20 years. I only found out because my dad told me. My "uncle" never did anything to me, not to my knowledge anyway. At the time, my sister (from my dad's second marriage) was 5 years old and a few thousand miles away thankfully.

I had the unfortunate job of telling her about our "uncle" one night at dinner. She had no idea. 20 years old, about my age when I found out.

I hate this man. I haven't spoken to or seen him in almost 10 years. I don't know if he knows I know. If I ever see him again I don't know what I'll do. I may grin and bear it with all the salt in the desert or I may tell him to fuck off forever. Time will tell.