Face it, there will never be any certainty about the Kavanaugh allegations

My earliest memory is of the time I put a key into an electrical socket. Fine, cue the jokes, I electrocuted myself. And such a vivid memory that makes.

I can remember the keys, which were the color of an old penny, and how I slipped them off the bright yellow Formica of our kitchen island. I remember, too, the black Bakelite of the electrical socket. I remember noticing how neatly the one would fit in the other. And then I remember lying in our foyer while my mother, apparently on the phone with my pediatrician, shouted from the kitchen to my father: “The doctor says give her a glass of water!”

None of which happened the way I remember it.