WHERE THE TAPE STARTS

I was three, four tops when this happened so a lot of the details are sketchy. Chelan, Washington - our old house up the hill from Lakeside park. My mother and I were getting ready to leave for the day. She was looking down into her open purse; I had my boots and jacket on. I wanted to ask her something but it was hard to pick my words so I stopped and didn't say anything so I could pick my best ones. Then I heard the words in a good order and felt really confused because I hadn't moved my mouth or made any sounds! It happened again and I looked at my mom, who was looking through her purse and hadn't heard anything.  

Holy shit I could talk in my head! No one but me could hear it! I forgot all about asking mom anything and kept trying to to talk without talking because I kept expecting it to stop working but it didn't! I don't remember a word of those first thoughts but I remember feeling shaky on my feet, exhilarated and a little guilty at my spontaneous development of a super power. Could everyone do this? Was this what they knew and I didn't about picking good words? I hated getting them wrong but now I could say them just to myself first and say the right ones when I was ready for people to hear them.

We were leaving to see some other kids - couldn't say whether it was the park, preschool or a friend's house. All I remember of the rest of that day was wanting to practice head talking, which I was quickly seeing as a means to avoid anyone ever hearing me say a wrong word again. Once I was sure none of the other kids could hear it, I started to wonder if I might meet someone who could someday.

"That would be a mess, probably!" I said to myself.