A childhood belief about dangerous food

When I was a young tyke my mom's friend took me to a pizza place to eat. The workers there were kneading the dough and, noticing my amazed interest at it, someone gave me a little ball of dough that I made into a little dough pizza. On the car ride home I played with that dough, and finally ate it. We lived in the mountains at the time, and my mom's friend told me that I shouldn't have eaten that, because dough expands at high altitude, and it would expand in my stomach and I would explode. I cried the rest of the way home until he finally admitted he had been joking.