A Year of Blogging: October 21, 2011

October 21 was 'Babbling Day'. Finally, a day for Chatterboxes! In case you haven't figured it out by my sometimes lengthy posts, I am a talker. When I was in elementary school, most of the comments on my report cards were 'Amy is a pleasure to have in class, but she needs to work on talking less.' Or something like that. I come by this honestly enough. While my dad is a fairly quiet guy (unless you start talking sports), Mom can talk quite a bit. Both of my Grandmothers had the gift of gab. My sister is also a talker. She once told me the thing that attracted her to her husband is that he could talk more than she could. Sydney got the double whammy- both parents are chatterboxes. So of course, Sydney is too. Drew seems to be keeping up with the family tradition, he babbles all the time. As he learns more words, I imagine he'll talk your ear off. Sydney can already talk to me on the phone for a steady hour. I remember what I was like as a teenager, gabbing with my friends all afternoon on the phone. My parents actually had to set rules for me. We didn't have call waiting, so if I was on the phone, and you tried to call, you got a busy signal. Dad would try to call to let us know what time he was going to be home so we knew when to have dinner, and he'd get a busy signal. After working in oil and grease all day, it really upset him. So Mom and Dad set a rule. If we hadn't already heard from Dad, then I couldn't stay on the phone for more than five or ten minutes. I had to keep the line free in case Dad called. Once I had heard from him, I was free to gab with my friends, as long as I finished my chores and homework. Our school district was so big, that some of my friends were actually a long distance call for a few years, which limited the amount of time I could talk to these friends. One day while talking to Sydney, she told me she had been on yellow in school that day. Her school used a color system like a stop light. Green meant you'd been good, yellow was that you'd been warned, and red was the worst. I asked her what she got in trouble for, and she said 'talking'. Oh child, I think you're going to get that a lot! Erich is not a talker. On our first date, I kept up a steady stream of chatter, and he barely spoke. I kept thinking 'he doesn't like me' and he thought 'she must be nervous, she won't shut up!' . Fortunately, we quickly figured out that I talk a lot and he doesn't. Even now, 11 years later, it's about the same. I do probably 80% of the talking. We've gotten used to each other. Whether you consider yourself a talker, a chatterbox, or a person who babbles, take time to enjoy the day! And if you want something quieter, I suggest you find a nice babbling brook to sit next to.