I was an
only child for almost seven years; seven quiet and comfortable years, at least for
me. I was a very loud child. I seldom shut my mouth and could talk for hours
about pretty much anything. I used to sing to people on the aeroplane, talk to
doctors, assuring them that they couldn’t get anything past me and anyone who
visited our house was in for a very long night of constant interrogation. Recently,
my dad was chatting to one of his old friends and he looked at me and said, “She’s
not talking”. He met me once, when I was two, and I talked non-stop for three
hours.