My dad tells me I am the youngest child of the youngest child of the youngest child of the youngest child. So that makes my little boy the fifth youngest child of the youngest child (I’m sure there’s a more proper way to say that). Being the baby of four kids, I definitely took my fair share of being picked on. So I guess I resonate with my youngest when I see him snubbed by his sister or bossed around.
And of course there are those fun picture opps that she can’t resist the urge to ruin while he flashes a cute, unknowing smile.