workShow 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
I used to think that the place my Dad went every day was actually called "Work". I also thought that the Government would print money which was then delivered to work in big trucks and they kept it in a room at the back somewhere, and at the end of every week the boss (who was a fat bald man in a suit) would call my dad into his office and hand him some of the money.
My little brother, when we read about the guy who played the purple TeleTubby gettting fired. He asked what that meant and my dad said "It's when you get sacked". SO he proceeded to reply "So they put him in a bag and shot him?"
I used to think that all bosses were mean and terrible. I remember asking my mom if her boss was nice or not. Cartoons always portray bosses as really mean, so that's what I assumed.
My daughter used to think that when you get "Fired" (from your job), it meant that your boss would come to your house at night and set your house on fire!
my dad told me that all lawers were sharks so whene i met with one with my dad and when i still belived it at 5 i screamed at the top of my lungs DON'T EAT ME!!! and threw up
I don't know why, but I used to believe that matches got sulphur on one end because people sat at a table, dipping each match in it. I pictured it as a factory of some sort, and I felt sorry for the people having that as a job, because it must have been very boring.
when i was in kindergarden, all the other little kids liked playing school and house, but I liked playing office. So, I asked my friend to play office with me and she said , "no thats boring!". So i went to my teacher and said, "No one wants to play office with me!" so she said, "I'll play office with you!" and so i was very satasfied. What i didn't know was that we weren't really playing office, I was helping her do work! I felt so used when i found out!
I used to believe I could become a cloud-maker.
I used to believe that when my father went to 'work' and every dad that went to work, went out to a forest and they all did lumberjack stuff. They'd all cut down trees and for some reason form a line standing across a raging river and transport fallen trees to the other side, across rapids and jagged rocks, because that's where they needed them. My father was actually the president of a company and went to work every day in a suit, i just assumed he changed in a locker room in which everything was made out of wood. I hadn't come up with something that working moms did, for i didn't know they existed, i thought all moms stayed home.
For some reason until I was about 10 I used to believe that the dentist pierced your ears.
When my husband was a kid his mom worked as a bartender, and he thought that meant she was allowed to get drunk at work. How else was she to know how the drinks she made tasted?
I used to believe there are two types of grown-ups.
/ Type 1 would be the people who get married, become parents, and go to "work" (usually in an office) every day.
/ Type 2 would be those with an "actual profession" (as opposed to office workers) For example: teachers, bus drivers, firemen, etc. The main difference, however, would be that these people stayed single for their entire life, and couldn't have children.
/ In other words: Type 1 help raising people who would then decide between type 1 and 2, whereas type 2 serve the entire community.
When I first heard the word "lumberjack", I thought it was "Numberjack" like the TV show The Numberjacks. When I was corrected, I thought a lumberjack was a dude named Jack who lumbered around.
My dad worked in a remote area in Alaska, and every two weeks had to go there on a plane. When we dropped him off at the airport, my sister always thought he worked at the airport, no matter how many times I told her she was wrong.
My cousin lives on a farm, however her parents are not farmers, that side of the business is looked after by employees. When she was little, she came home from school upset. Her parents asked what was wrong. She exclaimed to her father and mother -
"You're not a *real* farmer, and you're not a farmer's wife!"
She believed that they should look like what you see in story books, gumboots, pitchforks, aprons, and pies cooling on windowsills.
I thought being a hippie was a job or a career of some sort in which you had to have long hair and wear interesting clothes and talk about peace and flowers. This sounded absolutely wonderful to me. So when I was around the age of four or five, if grownups asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up (which of course they would constantly) I would say, proudly and with glee, "I'm going to be a HIPPIE!" Naturally, adults always reacted with enormous amounts of consternation, which I could not fathom--what could be wrong with pretty hair, peace and flowers? My parents told me never to say that again. In spite of their worrying--perhaps also because of it-- I grew up to be pretty much EXACTLY what I had planned. I have no regrets.
I was very amazed by the concept of ”work” when I was little: I just couldn’t figure out why people got paid at all (wasn’t money something you got from you parents?).
The only explanation I came up with was that you had to pay someone if they were to give you a job, and that a good job had to be more expensive than a bad one...
When my little brother was younger he had large tonsils which caused him to choke a couple of times. Everytime he would choke we would call 911 and the paramedics and firemen would show up. Two times that this happened he choked on hot dogs. So everytime he saw a fire engine or an ambulance with their lights on he would scream out Hey somebody must have choked on a weeny. I'm glad he finally got over that one and figured out what they were really for but it took him a few years. It was hilarious.
My father used to tell me when I was little, that his co-worker needed a stopsign on his street. He used to tell me that when I grew up, he would dress me in red and make me be the stopsign. I was very upset by all of this, so the next day my father came home and told me that another litlte girl was the stopsign and that I didn't have to. I then got jealous and demanded to see the little girl who STOLE my job.
Once when I was at a resturant with my family my Aunt was talking about how a friend of hers had been fired at work that day. Earlier I had watched a scene from the Jetsons where George Jetson got fired by his boss and was thrown through a hole in the wall down a metal shoot and into a dumpster. I really thought that was what happened to you when you got fired.