A. N. Prompt from Wordwielder : Family Man
Family is a strange thing. It ties together people without regards to intelligence, tastes, inclinations and all things one should reasonably consider when gathering people together for a considerable amount of time. And of course, it gives you no choice at all. You're bound. And if you do manage to break such a chain, it won't be without hurting yourself severely in the process.
As a consequence, there are people who find their own family quite enough to deal with, thank you very much, and are in no hurry of forming yet another – like, ever.
Then, there is the second category: what's called commonly a 'family man'. Everyone knows Dr. Watson - "the good doctor" - is one of those. He just can't help forming bonds, but no, that's not exact – he positively thrives on them.
Even when there is nothing much to be happy about. His brother, just as an example: he's never been a particularly pleasant person – not that the drinking helped. But Holmes' open-mouth-insert-foot routine leaves the detective with a certainty. Even if that particular bond hurt, Watson has never even dreamt about wishing the man didn't exist.
Family-related metaphors seem to be coined thinking about the man. Brothers-in-arms? Definitely. There is a reason colonel Hyater pleaded so much for his company, and now that Watson's address is public, he keeps getting letters from grateful – and sometimes concerned – former comrades.
So, when Watson announces his engagement, Holmes isn't pleased, but he is even less surprised. Watson was born to find a nice girl, marry her, treat her like a princess and end up with a new child every year. And there is really no reason but the detective's selfishness to object to Mary Morstan changing her surname.
Watson is, though, unlucky about family as much as he is made for it. For once (or twice, to be honest), Holmes' predictions are way off the mark – at least about the conclusion. The detective isn't sure the dog – or these army friends – will be an effective enough substitute for all the bonds which keep getting broken in his doctor's life. So, the only choice he really has is to take the first train to Calais, isn't it?
There is a third category, you know, in addition to the family man and the "not-me-please" kind of man. The people who think they belong to the "relatives is quite enough" category because, let's get real, who would accept them? They barely stand themselves, sometimes. It's easier – and more dignified as well – not to search for something impossible to find anyway. They're likely to make a surprising discovery.
It is never wise to mess with anyone's loved ones, but heed my word. Do carefully keep from even thinking about hurting a third kind man's family. They easily snap.
P.S. FYI, "My old friend, Colonel Hyater, who had come under my professional care in Afghanistan, had now taken a house near Reigate, in Surrey, and had frequently asked me to come down to him upon a visit", ACD, REIG.