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I used to believe that only people who celebrated Christmas were allowed to have chimneys on their houses. It seemed perfectly natural that this should be the rule, although I'm not quite sure how I expected it to be enforced.
When I was very young, I used to believe Indians (of the Native American variety) lived in the spaces between the walls. They were a little annoyed at being cramped up in the walls all the time, so I was a little scared of them. I have no idea where this belief originated. I didn't know any Indians, although I recall some of the streets around us were named after Indian tribes.
My Dad once told me that if I stuck my face too close to the microwave or toaster, my face would become all squiggly from the radiation. To this day, I still wont put my face near them.
When my dad moved to texas, his friend's family had a well in their back yard. When he and his friend would play back there, the mom would shout "Stay away from that well!" with her heavy texan accent.
For years, my dad thought that there was a dangerous whale inside of the well.
I used to believe that when you earased a pencil mark you weren't really making it disappear, but rather coloring over it like white out. This was when I was in 5th grade. I really had no common sense as a child.
Our carpet was actually made up of all different squares. I made up this ritual where I HAD to hop, skip, and jump into or around them in a certain pattern or "something bad would happen." Never found out what the something bad was, 'cause I always followed the rules. Freaky, huh?
I USED TO BELIEVE THAT LIQUORICE ALL SORT MEN LIVED DOWN THE BACK OF OUR SOFA AND SPENT AGES TRYING TO FIND ONE
When I was 3 or 4 I thought that all inanimate objects had feelings, and they felt pain when you hit them hard.
I also thought that if you looked straight on at the edge of a knife it would cut your eyeball.
I used to believe that the dust at the top of doors was highly poisonous and could kill you.
I used to have a recurring dream about a tunnel that led from under my mother's work desk on the first floor of our house to the attic above our car garage. I had the dream so often that I began believing the tunnel was actually there.
I spent many hours looking under that desk and in the corner of the attic in the car garage, but never did find that stupid tunnel.
I used to think for some reason that when people moved they just traded houses with their friends.
When I was little we kept some boxes of varnish called "Joker" in the stairs down to the basement. I had watched Batman on TV and was convinced that the boxes was "The Joker" i disguise, and that one day they would transform into him. (I thought he was really scary) For several years i had to run as fast as I could up the stairs so that he wouldn't catch me.
My brother used to believe that potatoes were poisonous and if he found one in his room, it was a sure sign that his his room was haunted. My other brother pretended to be a doctor and diagnosed the patient with a rare case of 'potatophobia' which had to be treated immediately with a series of antidotes involving the potatophobic brother tidying the doctor's room for over a month. He was so scared out of his wits he agreed to do it. I used to put potatoes in his room just to see him shriek. I highly regret it now.
I once walked into my brother's room when he was six and he was really really scared, and he pointed to a little hole in the wall and screamed "The TUTORS are going to come out of the holes in the wall and get me!"
He believed that tutors were the boogie man, right around the time my sister was getting home-tutored in math...
I used to believe that if I went upstairs to get a band aid that monsters would come get me so I never went to get a band aid
I use to believe that Santa Claus brought the TV Guide every night because every morning when I woke up, there would always be a new one in the living room.
I know, it's weird. Don't ask.
When I was around six years old or so, I used to believe that if you looked into the reflection of your bed's headboard, that two women would come out of it and rape you... I most likely got this thought from my dreams.
When I little my mom and dad told me that we were moving house....being a very imaginative child I spent day and night trying to think how strong dad was....he couldnt possibly pick up our house and move it could he?? I thought that as he was so strong he could just put the house on wheels and we would drive to where we wanted to live....when my mom and dad told me how we move house I was devastated!
when ever i lost something my dad said the crack house nomes took it the rule was when ever they took some thing the returned some thing and they always took it at the wrost time but that was just me losing stuff
When I was about three my mom took me to see the house ( the outside) I lived in when I was a baby. When we got there I said something like,"Let's go inside,now" My mom said we couldn't because it didn't belong to us. I never understood why we couldn't go inside.