More gymnastic feats from little Sophie. She’s a daredevil, our little one. She must love the rush of blood to her head. She was dying to do it more than once – but we refused. We probably shouldn’t have even let her do it once, but it’s very hard to say no to her cute curly self.

I’m telling you, Sophie’s going to be our rebel child. I can see it now. Playing hooky to skydive out of airplanes. Or to go parachuting. Or to practice platform diving. Or to go spelunking.

She’s a thrill-seeker. Where she gets that from, I have no idea. I mean, I used to love crazy rollercoasters. But now that I’m hitting 40, merry-go-rounds make me nauseous. My husband is even worse than I am. He can’t watch IMAX films without feeling as though he’s going to puke. And Chloe is simply not a risk-taker.

But Sophie is different. She’s not from this world. It’s the hair. It’s got to be that hair. Somewhere hiding in those curls is an alter-ego, a mini-Sophie gently coaxing her to the dark side.