My good friend Annie says that there are two kinds of people in the world. There are tellers, and there are... well, actually I forget what everyone else is, because I'm a teller.
Tellers, like me, will tell just about anyone practically anything about themselves. Annie, who is not a teller, would not for instance tell you about how bad the people on the subway/bus/stairs stunk. It wouldn't occur to her that you might be interested. But for me, there's no filter. From the mundane (but hilarious, I promise!) daily anecdote, to the just plain TMI (I just recently had a bra size discussion with way too many people), I always seem to let it all hang out.
Husband is decidedly not a teller. In fact, I have to beg him to tell me stories from his childhood, to tell me about his day. It will be interesting to see which side of the fence the Bean (and her future sibling(s?))fall on...
No one in my immediate family is a teller. Based on my limited dataset, I think that telling might be a recessive trait, but I need more data...
So what are you? Are you a teller or not-so-much?
On the Division of Labor, Again
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