Do we have to talk in order to agree, or agree in order to talk?

One of my early childhood memories is of an adult friend of the family calling me, "Chatterbox." Even though I was probably only 6 or 7, I could distinctly detect the sarcastic and unkind edge to the seemingly innocuous remark. It apparently did no lasting damage; however, because as an adult I talk every bit as much as that chattering child. I've heard it all through the years...motor-mouth, jabber-jaws, and my personal favorite, diarrhea mouth. And I will be the first to admit that I talk way too much.

But there is something I have discovered about this weakness of mine. Talking is how I figure things out...it's part of how I learn. For some reason it helps me to understand if I vocalize my thought process. I have many friends who are exceptionally internal. There are days and times when I long to be silently reflective like them, but that nature is as foreign to me as I'm sure my talkative one is to them. So I hope those of you stuck within the sound of my voice will be patient with my endless discussion. If you only knew how hard I work at keeping things to myself and listening better to others; I think you would truly be amazed. And despite this trait/flaw? I am an ironclad secret keeper.

You may wonder what brought on this moment of introspection? This morning, I sent Zachary upstairs to do 4 things. I sat in the office responding to email where I could clearly hear his progress. He did not stop talking for one second in the 20 minutes it took to complete his tasks-- (including brushing his teeth, by the way). Finally, I yelled upstairs for him to just be quiet long enough to finish so that he would not be late for school!

And then the phone rang, and I picked it up, and it was the pot. He said, "Hey kettle, you're black!" and then he hung up. Pots can be really rude sometimes.