For both of my siblings and for myself, there are a handful of childhood stories that we could not escape if we wanted.
There are several attached to my name, but perhaps the one I think of most often is this.
When I was 3 years old, the youngest of three children and the only girl, I babbled endlessly. My mom said I’d talk to anyone about anything, and that I’d talk more — not less — as I began to fall asleep every night. One afternoon, apparently fed up with my chatter, one of my older brothers told me that I had to be quiet for 10 minutes. Absolutely quiet, but just for 10 minutes. My mother said that when my brother told me that, I shut my mouth, opened my eyes wide, and began to cry. From a toddler, I was horrified at the idea of mandated silence.
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