The Need to Tell All---Stream of Consciousness

Chloe is at the age where she feels compelled to tell everyone we meet all about our business as it streams into her mind and pours right out of her mouth. I've tried ever so politely to tell her that perfect strangers do not need to know where we are going, what we are doing or demand to know what a perfect stranger is doing and where they are going.I have also tried to make it clear that she shouldn't tell someone who is smoking a cigaretter outside a post office that it stinks (as she did this morning). It doesn't seem to be sinking in. Case(s) in point:

• I had to go to the Junio*r Lea*gue office last evening to make some copies. Chloe came with me. Another meeting was taking place in the conference room and Chloe went right in to see what was going on (primarily because they had eclairs). From the other room, I could hear her ask, "Are you having a meeting?". I then heard her ask, "What are you writing?", to which someone replied that they were writing a "to do" list. Chloe then states, "My mom makes "to do" lists in a wire notebook. She wrote one today when I was at gymnastics. She was writing and wasn't watching me do a handstand so I had to yell, 'Mom, lookit." ---TOO MUCH INFORMATION
• Today, Chloe and I stopped into our local bank. The branch manager brought Chloe a lollipop and was telling Chloe that he had a daughter her age which after putting the lollipop in her mouth, it must have triggered her to share this information, "My Dad goes to work to make money. His money goes into THIS bank. THIS bank has my Dad's money. My Dad shares his money with my mom and I. He brought me lots of money last night from work . You have to work to make money thats why my Dad goes to work. His work is like my school but I don't get any money. I get money if I do my chore chart but not at school. Do you know my teacher's name? Her name is Mrs. S...and Mrs. K.... Do you know who is in my class? I know all their names, their names are.... There are 16 of us in class. I can count to 16. Thats easy. What do those buttons do? Do you really have a daughter? Can I have another lollipop?". I responded with a "No, you already have a lollipop," to which Chloe responded, "But I can have another one, this is where my Dad keeps his money!"

I actually think there was more to it than that, I probably missed some of it. It seemed as if she was going on forever, enough that everyone in the bank had a glassy-eyed stare and couldn't get a word in edgewise.