Back in 1976, disco was king, malaise was queen, and I was off being born in Mona Vale Hospital in New South Wales, Australia. Technically, due to the International Date Line, I've been 33 for a day now, but, let's just call my birthday November 5th. It keeps things simple.
When I tell people I was born in Australia, they imagine my birth was attended by a tableau of koalas, wallabies and kangaroos, and accompanied by a soaring didgeridoo soundtrack, like a sort of antipodean Nativity play.
Sadly, the truth isn't quite so exciting. I was born in a normal hospital, among doctors and nurses, with zero marsupials in attendance. However, there's still a good story in there:
My sister's first memory is of our dad holding her up to the window of the neonatal ward, pointing out all of the babies to her, and saying, "So, which one do you want?" (Yes, all Stameys are extremely sick people.)
Skye pointed to a random baby. Probably a boy. Definitely not me.
So Dad pointed at me, and said, "What about that one?"
Skye's voice rolled into a high-pitched whine, "But she's too SMALL!!!!!!"
Luckily, despite my sister's objections, my parents still took me home. Otherwise I imagine this story would turn out quite differently.
