I remember sitting as a little girl hearing my belly rumbling.
The only other sound I knew like that, and knew well, was the sound of mice running in the walls.
So - obviously - I concluded that I had mice running around in my belly.
The amazing adaptability of kids - nothing registered in that memory of being unacceptable. Only now as an adult does the situation appall me. That hunger was familiar, accepted and just thought of like a state of being. That mice in the walls was familiar and "norm". And the idea that I had mice in my belly was just as accepted in a more of a "huh, well, waddayaknow" type of way.