I was walking through the office space of a friend yesterday when I noticed some early pre-school art. The artist had clearly gone to a great deal of trouble with the letters and numbers. It reminded me of my early times of scribing. I am pretty sure we were living in Sorrento, Victoria. I can't have been much older than 4. Whatever possessed me, I do not know, but one day I decided to write down all the numbers I could. I obtained an exercise book for the task and dutifully, neatly, painfully began writing all the numbers I could, 1, 2, 3... I must have spent hours on it. Well it could have been less, I was working in "little kid" time. Recalling, I am not sure if I presented my work, or if it was the regular inspection, but from the number 100, I had been making a terrible mistake.

...99, 100, 1001, 1002, 1003

Mum:"Sorry, that is not how you write one hundred and one;"
-Insert dramatic pause here-
S (Nearly in tears):"What do you mean?"

So after that lengthy and traumatic introduction to working with numbers, well, maths is still my nemesis.