“Daddy, is our house made out of bricks?”

“We live in a skyscraper, Colin,” Blaine said. “It’s made out of steel and glass.”

Colin’s brow furrowed. “Do any of my friends live in houses made out of bricks?”

“I doubt it. This is Manhattan. Maybe in Brooklyn. Do you have any friends who live in Brooklyn? I don’t think so. It’s kind of far away.”

Colin looked extremely concerned, but Blaine was perplexed as to why. “Do we know anyone who lives in a house made out of bricks?”

“Um … let me think …” Blaine suddenly brightened. “Grandpa James and Grandma Anna live in a brick house, in Ohio.”

“What about Grandpa Burt and Grandma Carole?”

“I think their house is made out of wood.”

Colin started to cry.

“What’s the matter, honey? Why does it matter what everyone’s house is made of?”

“Because the Big Bad Wolf might come and blow their houses down if they’re not made of bricks,” Colin wailed.

Blaine didn’t laugh. He didn’t laugh. He was very proud of himself for not laughing. “Oh honey,” he pulled Colin into his lap and wrapped his arms around him. “The Three Little Pigs is just a pretend story. Wolves do not really blow houses down. And even if they did, Grandpa Burt and Grandma Carole’s house is very, very strong. Nobody could ever blow it down.”

Colin sniffled and looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really really,” Blaine assured him.

“What about our house?”

“Steel is even stronger than bricks.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”