This is a common scene around our home, the little brother tagging along with the really big brother. My bookended sons. When I became pregnant with Evan, Tristan was twelve going on thirteen and, as mothers will do, I worried that Tristan would have a hard time not being the only child any longer. For a few of those early teen years we had some rough seas but no real trouble waters. But I remember a conversation with Tristan, while I was pregnant with Evan, in which he asked how old the baby would have to be before they could play Legos together. I can confirm that it took three years for the two join around a pile of plastic bricks.