When I was little, there were three major lies I believed. The best/worst part of these lies was that no one told me these lies; I somehow came up with them myself.
If you run a red light, a loud siren with flashing lights will sound all around your car. Then the police will come and take you to jail. I took red lights very seriously.
Needless to say, I was a backseat driver. I didn’t want to go to juvey for my mom running red lights; or worse, get sent to live with my grandmother. Yikes.
Like many little kids when I was upset with life as a five year old, I would fantasize about how I was adopted and my real parents would come for me soon. Most of these stories I’ve heard the kids imagine that their real parents are royalty. Not me; my imaginary ideal parents were Johnny and Baby. You know, the lead characters from Dirty Dancing.
My mom and dad. I wished.
This is the one that makes most think a little different about me and possibly question my intelligence. I thought the reason that one said “excuse me” after passing gas was to take away the smell. Somehow, those magical words negated any unpleasant fumes spewing from one’s mouth or anus. (Anus sounds like such a dirty word, doesn’t it?) That was the only reason I could ever come up with to acknowledge a silent but deadly poot. Why else would you admit that you stunk up the car?
IT WAS ME!
Anyone else out there who had a vivid imagination when they were a kid?