Show most recent or highest rated first. Common beliefs in this section include:
- Firemen start fires.
- Getting fired means being set on fire.
- You can be literally anything you want - animal, vegetable or mineral
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When I was little I believed that there were people who, whenever someone was born, died or moved away, were paid to change the Population signs outside of towns. I always thought the ones for cities would be very busy people, indeed.
I used to believe that you had to "buy" your job. The more money you paid, the better the job.
When I was little, I believed that my Dad worked in a factory where they painted peas green!
I used to believe that working in adulthood involved losing at least 1 finger. all the men I knew when I was a child had lost some fingers while warking in constructions, as mechanic, etc.
So I was ok with the idea of losing a finger or 2 when I grew up.
As a young child I thought plumbers were men who sold Plumbs!
I used to believe adults lived where they worked. I thought the staff room (teachers' lounge) at school was some sort of complex, although the teachers actually slept on their desks. I whole-heartedly believed the minister slept in one of the pews (some had long, mattress-like cushions on them): it seemed ludicrous a building as big as a church would be kept for just an hour a week - something that still baffles me!
When I was young I wanted to be a hooker ... before I found out what it meant. At the time, though, I thought it was all about being beautiful and getting to dress up in awesome clothes.
When I was little I thought that the street a crossing guard worked on was named after the crossing guard because my grandmother Carmen worked on Carmen Ave.
When I was a little kid, I went with my mom to the paint store and was fascinated by all the different colors of paint samples, each with their own mysteriously descriptive name. I asked Mom where they got the names for all these colors, and she replied that it was somebody's job. I was elated to find my future profession! I would be a color-namer.
This would of course be the GREATEST job in the world, but as of yet I haven't found any available positions.
When I joined the Royal Navy in the early sixties I convinced my dear old mum that we anchored every night and everybody went to bed, and sheusedtobelieve that for years!.
When I was 5, the mother of one of the kids in my class came to school to talk about her job, which happened to be nursing. During the talk, she mentioned that if you had to go into "theatre" you should never wear nailpolish, as they need to see the colour of your fingernails to make sure you are getting enough oxygen.
Well, a week later, Mum took us to a play....at the THEATRE...and I had nailpolish on. I pleaded with my mother to take it off with remover, but she didn't have any. In sat there in the theatre gripped by mortal fear for the whole play. Mum didn't have a clue about what I was on about until she talked to the teacher a few weeks later!! Finally it was explained to me that the nurse meant "operating" theatre!!
When I was in first school I started noticing that my friends in fourth year (9 years old, very grown-up!) would vanish over the summer and not be there when I came back in September. I asked one of the classroom helpers where they went; she said they were leaving the school. For another year and a half I believed that once you were nine years old you had to leave school and go to work... in my mind it was never normal office-type work either but something like mining or working in a factory full of smoke. Maybe in Victorian times I would have been almost right.
At the dinner table each night, my father would regail us with stories from work. He often referred to his co-workers by last name. I thought it was amazing that one of the people he worked with was half man half woman. One night I mustered the courage to ask whether they were split down the middle, or at the waist. The table roared for minutes while I blushed. The co-workers name was "Sheehee".
When I was in the second grade, the kid who sat behind me would always do really gross things. One day I looked back and caught him trying to put the pointy end of a pencil in between his eyelid and push back (like, into the back of his eye... gross), and so I asked him what he was doing. He told me "Don't try this, I'm a professional." So, for the longest time, I thought that anyone distinguished as a "professional" poked lead pencils into the back of their eyes. I guess that's why I thought my dad's boss was crazy.
When I was younger I wanted to be an archeaologist. I watched lots of TV shows on Egyptians, Pompei, and the like. What finally made me decide against it is that I was worried if I was alone and found a skeleton, I would scream and cry (and ruin my career).
When I was little and my sister asked me what I wanted to be, I replied "A Teddy Bear"
and I was serious. I believed I could be a Teddy Bear.
I used to believe that a metal sculpture of a fireman's hat and coat on the wall of the fire house was the ash-covered remains of a fireman who had died heroically in a fire. Every time we drove past it, I was terrified that people could die like that on the job.
i used to believe i had a very important job at my dads office. i ran around trying to get all the "special" orders out to all the elfs.
When I was little I sometimes saw chimneysweepers dressed in black, standing on the roofs. I used to think they were monkeys.
When I was very young, probably about 3 or 4 I got very upset when my father had to leave the house to go to work. My grandmother hugged me and explained that he was out making money. I felt so sorry for my dad after that - for years I believed that he was working underground in a horrible, dark, hot factory hand carving coins and cutting out paper notes - poor dad!
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