I’ve been in the world 37 hours. I’ve seen pancakes, and a stairs, and birds, and windows, and hundreds of cars, and clouds, and police, and doctors, and Grandma and Grandpa. But Ma says they don’t live together in the hammock house anymore. Grandma lives there with her friend, Leo, now, and Grandpa lives far away. I’ve seen persons with different faces and bigness and smells, talking all together. The world’s like all TV planets on at the same time, so I don’t know which way to look and listen. There’s doors and more doors, and behind all the doors, there’s another inside, and another outside, and things happen, happen, happening. It never stops. Plus, the world’s always changing brightness and hotness, and there’s invisible germs floating everywhere. When I was small, I only knew small things, but now I’m five, I know everything.