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When I was 3 or 4 or 5, I used to think that the hair on your arms and legs were really bug antennaes, and that when people said that bugs are everywhere, that they meant also in our skin.
I used to believe that the skin next to you elbow was called Mustard. So, when my brother and I were bored we'd complain to my mother that "MY MUSTARD IS BROKEN!" Too funny....
When I was in kindergarten a kid told me that moles were really iniature moles (the animals) that had dug into your skin then reached back out and cut off their tales.
I used to think that scabs were God's bandaid.
I used to think I was black because I went to the pool a lot and had a tan.
My brother used to believe that black kids where very lucky cause he thought that they got chocolate milk from there moms breasts.......
I remember when my aunt told my sister that rubbing bruises help it heal. But I didn't hear it so I asked my sister what Aunt said, my sis told me that I have to rub my bruises really hard and if I didn't, sharp pointed bone-like things would pop up out from my skin when it rained. So for a couple of years I believed this and whenever I got a bruise I kept rubbing it.
My uncle Tony has this skin defect called Vitiligio or sumthin, and it makes some of your skin go a different color to the rest of it. Well he had it on his face, so his face was white, but from the neck down he was tanned. One day my brother asked him why his head was a different color and he told him that it was because his original head had fallen off and they couldnt find a new head the same color so they gave him that one instead. Well my brother believed that until he was 13, when he asked our mom about it. Lets just say she hasnt laughed that hard sin
I was told by a schoolfellow once that if you scratched yourself one hundred times in the same place, you would have a permanent scar. I considered trying it--but at the time, "one hundred" seemed like such a high number that I didn't believe I could keep it up that long. (Probably I was just too chicken, though.)
I have a birthmark on my leg, which kids would say looked like different things in grade school. I thought it was roughly in the shape of the outer outline of a paper clip and wondered what made it that specific shape. One night I dreamt that it would change shape on its own, but that I could also change its shape by putting a sticker on it and then taking it off; the birthmark would then take the shape of the sticker's silhouette. So at one point I put on a sticker that was, of course, of a paper clip, and kept it on for a long time so that the shape eventually became permanent. I believed the dream was real after I woke up, and I also thought that I could still change my birthmark's shape by placing stickers on it. The only reason that it didn't work so well was because I couldn't keep any of them on long enough (the sticker either fell off or I had to take a bath).
When on holiday one year I saw a black person on the beach and remarked to my mother "Look, they're black all over!"
Some how I'd thought they just had black hands and faces.
I used to believe that black people were made of chocolate.
The only black person I knew at the time, and until I was five years old, took care of me when my parents were at work. I thought she was the only black person that existed and that she was one of my mothers.
The first time I met another black woman I said, "I have a chocolate mom like you."
This is so sad: When I had just turned five, we went shopping and I saw the first African-American people I had ever seen. I thought that they had some sort of disease to look that way. I feared that if I came near them I would catch the disease.
Whenever I got a sliver I always freaked out and made my mom get it out right away. She was shocked to find out that the reason was that I was convinced that if the wood stayed in there a tree would grow out of my hand.
I used to think that you could get a tan if you turned the oven on, opened the door and stood in front of it.
My sister always liked to tell me tails but being five years younger I would always believe her. She once told me that if you pick off a freckle you will bleed to death, that there wasn't anything that could help you and it could never, ever be closed up ... it would be a gruesome death for sure.
when i was little i was a very freckly kid and i got told that everytime i went outside that the sun would kiss me and thats what i thought freckles were.
I used to believe that eating chocolates will make the skin become brown.
that moles were created when god dripped paint from painting the black babies
that the smallw arts on my dads neck were caused by swearing!