Yes, Davis admits, younger brothers are irksome little mimics of older brothers, who have yet to learn that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Here, an older brother must contend with the ever more vexing stages of his younger brother’s growth. First he’s just there, all bald and grinning and making serious eye contact. Then he’s “[c]reeping and crawling closer and closer, coming toward me…he touched, next he grabbed—all my stuff.” He is…“Bro-zilla.” Both text and McMenemy’s mixed-media artwork are minimalist, yet jumping with character and color. The older brother obviously has his moments of pique and exasperation, but he doesn’t express an urgency to render the pestiferous copycat into pulp. Given the volatility of the subject, it’s impressive that the book doesn’t fall into the happy-family species of the wouldn’t-that-be-nice genus. There is a genuine sense that soon enough the younger brother will be a mate, and a comment as brazen as “always be nice to your little brother” doesn’t ring fatuous. (Picture book. 4-7)
