I remember, when I was 2, sitting on the floor of my father's Bedford truck (it didn't have seatbelts, and this was in the 1970s) with my fingers in my ears, on the highway. It had a really loud roar, and it had a 4-speed transmission, which wasn't good. That day, he swapped it for a Toyota Dyna, and it was much quieter.

When I was 4, I was at kindergarten, and I was upset by some kids squealing. My teacher said, "Aw, the squealing won't hurt you." It was painful to my ears.

When I started primary school, some kids would come up to me and roar like constipated lions, and it was terrible. I'd put my hands on my ears, and they'd do it more.

Most recently, I had a meltdown last year, because my sister-in-law was using a window vacuum, she'd unloaded the dishwasher, and I couldn't find my bowl, my niece and nephew were squealing, and the house was opened up and there were flies coming in. I lost my ability to speak for a minute. I can't stand it when members of my family insist upon going outside and leaving the screen doors open. Well, hello, they're called screens for a reason. The screen is there to keep the flies out! And to think that my sister-in-law hates flies, too!