When my father was still alive, we were friends with the son of one of his co-workers. His son had a tree-house, which looked really cool when I was six. My brothers Zach and Brandon were there, and at the time they were seven and nine. He invited us to go the tree house so I was the last person to get on the ladder. About half-way up, my mother comes outside and screams at me for trying to climb up to the tree-house. Middle Children always complain that the baby of the family gets treated differently, and that's certainly true. But that's not always a good thing.