When I asked my sister why Mountain Dew was yellow she told me it was because it was made with Mountain Goat pee. Oddly enough, this thrilled me, because I liked goats, and I thought that drinking Mountain Dew would give me special powers to climb mountains and join them.

bubbles

I was about six years old and sitting in a doctor's waiting room while my mom was getting examined. I was the only kid among the waiting adults and so I went to the free coffee area and made myself a cup of java...believing that all the grown-ups would now think "Gee...he must be much older than we originally thought."

toon

I used to think that orange squash was called 'sum' because when my mum would pour my brother a drink she would ask me 'Do you want sum?'

Rick

When my brother was around seven or eight he developed a strange obsession with orange juice. At one stage he was drinking so much of it we began to get rather concerned. The truth was finally revealed one morning when my mum spotted him carefully examining a carton. 'Mum', he said. 'If I drink loads of long-life orange, do you think I'll have a REALLY long life?'

Clare Batt

I was told by a friend that cherry cola was made from the bodies of red ants and consequently spent a good hour staring into a bottle of said drink to check if there were any in there. There was no indication of whether black ants contributed to Guiness or if lime cordial was the product of greenfly.

Benj

I used to think that 'Dilute to taste' meant that if you didn't add water you couldn't taste it. One day I downed a glass full of undiluted Ribena and realised my error.

DegenerateTaoistJuggler

One of the saddest moments of my life, and the pivotal moment that ended my childhood innocence and started me on a life as a bitter cynic, occured the morning after one of my parent's parties.
It was early on a Sunday morning, probably in the fall of 1964 or 1965. There had been one of my parent's parties the night before. My father was an executive in a construction company, and often held parties to which he would invite clients and business friends. When my younger brother and I came downstairs to the family room in the finished basement, there was the usual collection of empty beer bottles, filled ash trays, rumpled paper napkins and such. Our parents were still asleep upstairs. We knew not to try to swig the leftover beer from the bottles (my brother had found a cigarette in one after the last party). I had always been fascinated by hard liquor, in particular by scotch. I had gotten the idea somewhere that scotch must taste like butterscotch. Perhaps I assumed that because of the evident gusto with which some of my father's friends drank the stuff. At any rate, I decided that this morning was the time to taste scotch for myself.
Taking the half-empty bottle from the ledge which served as a bar, I removed the cap and took a large drink directly from the bottle.
Of course, I immediately spit what was left in my mouth out across the room in a fine spray. The portion I had already swallowed was rapidly searing a path through-not down-my esophagus and boring a deep hole in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't breath, I couldn't talk. I could only choke and gasp, trying vainly to convey to my brother that I was in the process of dying.
When I could finally catch my breath and utter comprehensible sounds, I told my brother that "Dad must have put kerosine in this bottle!"
Well, that was it. The moment when I realized that childhood fanasies were just that-fantasies, with no basis in reality. Reality was sharp and bitter and stung and burned. Scotch did not, of course, taste at all like butterscotch. Grownups drank the stuff not because it tasted good, but for some other horrible, yet to be determined but undoubtedly evil, reason. So it would be for all my naive childhood perceptions. They would all have to be abandoned or at least re-evaluated in light of this painful new experience.

March Warn

My dad used to bring me a cup of earl grey tea before he went to work each morning. I always thought it was normal tea that tasted funny because my Dad had dropped some of his aftershave into it by accident. Now I know its just poncy tea!

Andy