Denise aged 4 years in 1 paragraph and then aged back 2 paragraphs later if you can't read it: Denise sat in her crib. She's my baby sister, and she's 7 months old. She's always smiling, sometimes even when she's crying. Her little legs kick the mattress and she waves her chubby arms. Sometimes she laughs when she sees her reflection in the mirror. She likes it when it rains. She loves splashing in the puddles when it's over. My name is Alexis, and I'm 10 years old, which makes me older than Denise by a whole six years. I often find myself watching her, fascinated by the way she sees the world. Everything is so new to her, and she finds joy in the simplest things. Her laughter is pure and contagious, making our house feel lighter somehow. One afternoon, I decided to play a game of peekaboo with her. I covered my face with my hands, and she giggled as if she hadn't seen it a hundred times before. When I revealed myself again, her eyes grew wide with delight, and she reached out to grab my nose. I felt a strange warmth in my chest, a feeling I hadn't noticed until she came along. Denise began to sit up by herself, and I knew it was time to move her into a toddler bed. Mom and Dad weren't home yet, so it was just the two of us. I took her out of her crib, and she looked around the room with curiosity. Her tiny hands clutched at the fabric of my shirt as I carried her over to her new bed. The bed was smaller than I remembered, but it was perfect for her. (the other paragraph got cut off so i only included the first 4) better and more accurate version: Denise sat in her crib. She's my baby sister, and she's 7 months old. She's always smiling, sometimes even when she's crying. Her little legs kick the mattress and she waves her chubby arms. Sometimes she laughs when she sees her reflection in the mirror. She likes it when it rains. She loves splashing in the puddles when it's over. My name is Alexis, and I'm 12 years old, which makes me older than Denise by 11 years and 4 months. I often find myself watching her, fascinated by the way she sees the world. Everything is so new to her, and she finds joy in the simplest things. Her laughter is pure and contagious, making our house feel lighter somehow. One afternoon, I decided to play a game of peekaboo with her. I covered my face with my hands, and she giggled as if she hadn't seen it a hundred times before. When I revealed myself again, her eyes grew wide with delight, and she reached out to grab my nose. I felt a strange warmth in my chest, a feeling I hadn't noticed until she came along. Denise began to sit up by herself, and I knew it was time to move her into a toddler bed. Mom and Dad weren't home yet, so it was just the two of us. I took her out of her crib, and she looked around the room with curiosity. Her tiny hands clutched at the fabric of my shirt as I carried her over to her new bed. The bed was smaller than I remembered, but it was perfect for her. I placed her in the middle of the mattress, which was covered in a soft, yellow blanket covered in tiny sunflowers. She looked up at me with a mix of excitement and trepidation, her eyes wide and her chubby cheeks rosy. I stepped back, giving her space to explore. For a moment, she sat still, her eyes darting around the room, taking in her new surroundings.
