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I learned about Mardi Gras in French class when I was like nine or ten...a big age for taking everything too literally for me. When I learned what the classic bead colors meant (purple=justice, green=faith, and gold=power), I thought that if you got beads of that color, that was the trait you inherited from the beads by some magical thing. Because of this I would always go on a wild goose chase every school Mardi Gras celebration for gold beads, but purple worked just fine too...if I couldn't have power I might as well have justice, but I could care less about faith, so everyone could keep their green beads. In fourth grade my French teacher gave out purple Mardi Gras beads..she had a gold, but it was her only gold so she couldn't give it out. I got REALLY upset, but I decided to be satisfied with justice. I ordered a big bag of Mardi Gras beads of every color off Oriental Trading soon after that, so I was finally happy 'cause I had all three now.
Now I'm sixteen and I still believe in the colors and their traits and that the bead color determines your own traits, still through some magical thing, and I got gold beads in school today and I like held on to them like a lifeline for that "power" trait for the whole day, but I'm not as obsessive over it as I was when I was ten, as I was willing to give the elusive power beads to a friend who didn't get any beads at the end of the day.
The end. Happy Mardi Gras, I Used To Believe!
I used to believe every single one of my toys was a living breathing person. Made of solid freaking plastic :) I found out I was wrong when I tried to talk to one....and it just sat..there..staring through my soul like a deer in the headlights.
Growing up I distinctly remember a new report on ABC about Cabbage Patch Kid dolls. The report showed them them on the assembly line and the reporter was talking about them having a name and birth certificate. I was mortified after that report because I thought that they made the Cabbage Patch kids from real babies and couldn't figure out how they turned them into plastic or why someone would kill a baby to make a doll.
I once left my toy Woody in my room and hid behind the door when I was 6, and waited 20 minutes for him to come alive. When he didn't, I cried
I believed that all of my stuffed animals had real feelings and could learn whatever I taught them in "school".
I used to believe my teddy bear was from vegas and thats why whenever i used to play poker with him he always won.
When I was in daycare, one of the forms of entertainment consisted of a toy catalog and a small adding machine (like a typewriter but with only numbers). We would look through the catalog, finding things we wanted, and put the number into the machine.
I believed the numbers it printed on the paper actually represented the things in the catalog, so I typed in the number for some "scary" plastic bugs hundreds of times. Then I would use the strips of paper to scare girls.
Weird thing is - it worked.
I used to think that my stuffed animals were alive and I would talk to them but the weird thing was is that I actually thought they were talking back to me until I was about 7.
I used to talk with my teddy bear and I really thought he answered me.
my teddy is my family
when i look after and sleep next to my teddy i am going to have a good time and be closer to my mum and my dad. i am slowly increasing my teddy collection the more people i try to be close to. its rather OCD ish....
When I was little I use to sleep with a bunch of stuffed animals and every night, no matter how long it took, I would ritualistically hug and kiss everyone one of them. I was scared that if I didn’t share my love equally they would come alive and attack me at night. I blame the X-Files…
My older sister once told me that when she found out she was going to have a baby sister that I would be just like a doll she could play with for a while, and toss in a corner when she got bored of it.
My parents gave me a Linka model-making kit one Christmas when I was about seven or eight. It consisted of some brick wall-shaped moulds into which you poured some white liquid, which then set hard into bits of wall from which you made model houses. One of my friends helped me make it, and because it was white liquid, I thought he was making some milk! About 25 years later I've still got it, but I've never touched it since then and it's probably all set hard by now!
When I was very little, I imbued inanimate objects with personalities. When it was raining and the windshield wipers were on, I thought it was a mother and her child. The one on the left was the mother putting the child to bed. "You must go to bed!" and the child would jump back up saying "I won't go to bed!" over and over.
My parents had a pool table, and I believed that the balls were all married. The female balls were solid and the male balls were striped. The colors determined who was with whom.. the 2 ball (blue) was married to the 10 ball (blue stripe) and they all lived in their own pocket (some had to share). Of course, the 8 ball (black) and cue ball (white) were different, but also the only ones left, so they were married to each other, but the other balls didn't like them and picked on them. It made PERFECT sense and I'd spend hours sitting on the table, making them all interact and talk and fight. Fights were the best... one ball would smack another and it would go flying, sometimes into a pocket that belonged to another ball, and then there'd be a whole new fight over that.
from the little toaster movie, i thought all my toys and house hold objects were alive. i was about five. i never felt lonley.
I used to think that if I snapped my fingers at my stuffed animals, they would come to life; and then if I snapped again, they would become lifeless. So, when I was 12 and felt I was too old to play with stuffed toys (especially pretending/believing they were real), I snapped my fingers at them for the last time, and put them down for eternal rest.
when my cousin and me were little we were convinced that this teddy was moving towards us and that it was trying to get to us to eat us XD
Every time I walk out of the room my Pony in My Pockets move out of my little pony house. Is this just a fluke or are they alive? My house is only 1yr.
old!!! None of my other toys move just my ponies. I do not share a room. My siblings deny touching them. Those toys moved in my room while my whole family was dining!!
When I was nine, I was staying at a babysitter's house. My sister, who was about five, gave me these round things with holes that had little squares inside. She told me they were some of her toys that I could play with, and of course, I believed her. I was having a blast until the babysitter came in and caught me. It turns out that they were her mother's very beloved slide pictures. Oh boy, did I get in big trouble.