A childhood belief about i'm different

At one point as a small child, I was convinced that my cheerios were alive. I loved the cereal but couldn't bring myself to eat it. I would picture what it would be like to be a cheerio - living with a huge family in a box, where you would never be lonely. Then one day, you and some of your siblings would come tumbling and crashing into a bowl, where cold milk would make you feel freezing and soggy. Terrified, you would watch as a gigantic scoop came at you like a spear, and you were sent into a wet disgusting chamber (otherwise known as the human mouth) where you would be crushed into bits - a horrific death. I had to convince myself that it was ok . . . that cheerios were meant to be eaten, that being chewed up didn't harm them at all, but merely caused them to multiply, and go on a fantastical journey into my digestive tract. I was very odd in ways.