The ones who have read my diary so far have seen how I have grown from a tiny, bald, ugly, demanding baby to a good-looking, sweet-natured toddler. Sophia likes to tell me stories about when I was little. Funny, I can't remember any of it. I have lived with parents that had wings and a red feathered tail? I was taken to Winterswijk in something called a car? I slept on a hot-water-bottle? I was fed with a spoon? Get out of town, that's never happened for real! Or has it?