I was born a little small, full term, just small. I’m about 18 inches tall now, but back then, I could fit in the palm of my mother’s hand. I was something of a surprise to my mother, to say the least, as she was unaware of my presence when it came time to deliver me, but I haven’t been much of a bother to raise, other than finding clothes and small enough everyday objects for me to use. All my proportions are the same as a regular person, just really on the lacking-in-size end of the scale. When I was much younger, I used to walk around on the dining room table and forage from plate to plate while everyone else sat proper in a chair. Now I have a chair too, but it sits on the table. A twenty inch chair only a couple inches on the side is top-heavy, trust me on this one, and tips over way to easily. And the bathroom? Bathing in the sink is okay, but the toilet can still be a challenge. There are advantages though. I never pay for movie tickets since I can curl up in mom’s purse and she carries me in. I don’t weigh all that much, about 37 pounds soaking wet. Most people think I’m a doll or a robot or something. Nope. Just a very small person.