It's 7.15pm on a weeknight.  Mr Ueckerman is out at a dinner.  The boys and I have eaten and I'm cleaning up.  I ask Mr 6 to help Mr almost-4 to put on his pyjamas and read him a book, though not entirely sure how that will pan out.  He happily agrees; he loves being a helpful big brother... mostly. Ten minutes later, I peek in to their bedroom.  There they are, on one of the beds, Mr 6 reading a book to his little brother. It's one of those moments that make you stop, absorb the scene and file it away for later.  It doesn't matter that 45 minutes ago they were both complaining because I didn't cook spaghetti for dinner.  This is one of those moments that I'll cherish forever.  My two boys, together, reading, sharing a book.  The family ritual of us parents sharing a book with them before…