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When I was little...my Barbie had about 20 children. She had all these kids because she adopted them from the orphanage so they wouldn't get put to sleep. It didn't occur to me that an orphanage was different than a dog pound.
We had one of those low audio quality singing toys (kinda like the singing fish). This one was a white Christmas Bear dancing and singing "Yes, Jesus Loves Me ... Yes, Jesus Loves Me" ... My neice when playing it would hear something totally different. "Yes, Beat the Puppy ... Yes, Beat the Puppy". Though usually I let kids sing their own versions, I did correct her on this one
When i was little and was afraid of monsters coming in my room at night so i would tuck myself into bed with my stuffed animals covered under the blankets. When the mosters would come in my toys would jump out and surprise attack them kung fu-style!
(of course) in the morning they would be all over the floor, solidifying my belief.
One evening after a trip to the children's museum, my mother took us kids through the drive-thru at McDonald's. My sister and brother, who were 5 and 4 at the time got happy meals. The prize in them was a pack of scented crayons. We were all quiet while we happily munched away, until my brother let out a blood-curdling cry. My mom slammed on the brakes and pulled the minivan onto the shoulder of the highway. "What's wrong?!" she asked, fearing my brother had been stung by a bee or pinched in his car seat or otherwise physically injured. Through his sobs he told her that he dropped the bag containing his happy meal prize out the window. My mom said, "That's all? You have enough crayons at home anyway." but my brother begged her to find them. Apparently, the McDonald's commercial advertising the crayons in the happy meals showed kids drawing things like racecars and airplanes and the drawings coming to life and flying off the page. My mother spent the next 30 minutes searching the side of the interstate in the dark for my brother's "magic crayons".
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.
When I was a kid I used to believe that if I put a regular egg from the fridge underneath one of my stuffed toys a live, baby version of my toy would hatch.
when I was little i used to pick out shapes in by 'bobbly' window while I was on the toilet. one day i picked out little red riding hood. i told my mum and she helped me trace it saying 'it will come alive tonight'. I believed her and next morning i saw a girl in a red raincoat about my age. I hugged her and dragged her off to play. she is now my wife.
My grandpa had a knack for kite flying. He could send pieces of paper all the way up the string to the kite. One day, one fell off that I didn't see: he rubbed it on the grass and then told me it hit the moon; the green edges on the paper were proof, since the moon is made of green cheese. Unfortunately, I was laughed out of "show and tell" in kindergarden when I related this story.
Some of my 'little people' toys would float in the bathtub and some of them would sink. As a child, I was convinced that the ones that could float must have taken swimming lessons.
My dad was dating an American woman who would come and visit us every now and then (we live in Chile). I once asked him "Where is she going to sleep"
"In my bed" he replied.
"Where are you going to sleep"
"In the couch" he obviously lied...
"And what are you going to do after we (my sisters and me) are gone?"
"Chat and probably go out to dinner"
Concerned about this I went back into my room and searched for my Jumanji board game. I handed it over to my dad and said "Here, you can have it so you wont get bored"
I believed that my toys were alive, so I would explain to them before birthdays and Christmas that new toys would be coming to my room but I still loved all of them equally.
I use to believe that if I cut off my dolls' hair, it would grow back. I also use to believe that my toy animals came to life when i left the house so I use to tape them down.
I used to believe that the stuffed animals at the stores would be put through a shredder machine if they weren't bought. When my mother would tell me "You may choose one," I would agonize tearfully over the decision of which one would get to live and which I would abandon to torment and death. Often I'd pick the toy I wanted least, feeling that nobody else would want it either and it would be the first to be killed. I could almost hear them all crying "Don't leave me here..."
I used to believe that if I wanted a certain new toy all I had to do was find something that was the same color as the toy I wanted and throw it in front of the lawn mower when my dad mowed the lawn. He would mow over it and the new toy I wanted would pop out the back of the lawn mower.
My dad used to yell at me everytime I tried to throw something in the path of the lawn mower.
As a ploy to keep us from putting small rubber toys in our mouths, our parents told us that toys were made out of boogies. I imagined a toy factory, where the workers picked their noses...
When I was a girl, I belived that my dolls were alive, but they never moved during the day. Instead, they would wait for night and after it was dark, they would go wandering around the house until dawn when they would return to wherever they had last been set down. That's why as a child, I used to set my stuffed animals on the floor and make sure they were dressed for the weather. I belived that if I didn't, they would be angry and would hurt me while I slept.
When I was around 2 to 3 years old, I tried to pull off one of my Barbie's heads. My grandma told me that if I did that, I would let lose all the bugs that lived inside the doll.
Needless to say, I never tried that to do that again..
I used to believe that the electronic "talking" toys had a little guy living inside who's only job was to sit there and supply the voice for the toy.
when me and my neighbour were small girls we believed our toys and dolls would come alive when we weren't there. We extended this belief to bodily functions, but as we never saw the dolls go to the loo, we figured they needed some help. We held them over the loo but nothing happened. Mum asked what we were doing but I guess it seemed harmless so she left us to it.
Upset because the dolls didn't appear to be able to wee, we did it for them. In a jam jar.
Later that day I took my mum a jam jar full of my wee to show her what my dollies had done. She was unimpressed.
I rememember getting a helium balloon, and mom tied it to my wrist so I wouldn't lose it. But it chafed, so I squirmed my wrist out of the knot. Sure enough, it slipped out of my hand and floated away. I was unfazed, believing that when Dad got home, he could just get the ladder and climb up to get it (just like he did when my ball was on the roof of the garage).