A Compilation of Cute and Innocent Childhood Mis-beliefs

Let me start by answering what some of you asked me..."What prompted you to ask us on Facebook to contribute our 'cute and innocent childhood mis-beliefs'?"

My middle daughter and I were in Niagara-on-the-Lake last weekend when I mentioned to her that her older sister and I had intentionally planted a mis-belief with her when she was about 10. We thought it would be funny to tell her that "hake" is the food word for human flesh (like "pork" is the food word for pig). The idea was that years later, she'd be out on a date and see hake on the menu and casually mention this to whomever she was with (ideally, some guy I already didn't like who was on a first date with her, who would think she was an idiot and/or a liar and never see her again).

Funny thing is that when I mentioned this to her last weekend, she was surprised to learn that this wasn't true (or she was pulling my leg, which is likely).

That got us talking about these misbeliefs and how some of them carry into adulthood until you embarrassingly discover that you've been wrong all your life. So I thought I'd ask my Facebook friends for their examples.

Before I get to what you sent me, if you think it's mean that I planted the hake misbelief on purpose with my (then) little one, you'll probably think it's horrible that I always wanted to plant a much worse one: Like teeth, you also get "adult eyes" when you grow up and that you know they're coming in and will shortly push out your "baby eyes" when you get a headache. It's probably for the best that I never did tell the girls that. My middle daughter in particular, who used to yank out her teeth once she found out the Tooth Fairy paid you for them, might have tried to cash in.

So on with your contributions, anonymized and organized, answering the question... 

What's your cute and innocent childhood mis-belief?

**Spoiler Alert - you may still believe some of these things**

Food

My brothers told me that if you eat the bologna straight from the package, you'll get cancer. Putting the bologna between two slices of bread was fine. Looking back, I'm not sure which to disbelieve.

Chewing gum grows in your tummy! 

I thought we had a fire burning in our stomach like a furnace and every time you eat it was fuel for the fire. 

Technology

I thought there were people inside the TV set. 

I used to believe there was a time with no colour! Was sure everything in the "old days" was only in black and white (like old movies) and that colour must've been invented later on. 

I thought that Bill Gates invented literal windows. 

Sports

Hockey sweater numbers. The lower the number, the better the player. 

I was very disillusioned when I realized that professional hockey players were in it for the money.

Health

Early in our marriage, after suffering thru many instances of accidentally coming into contact with my icy toes, my husband asked ‘why don’t you wear socks to bed, since your toes get so cold?!’ I replied ‘you’re not supposed to cover your feet at night, so your toes can breathe.’ 

Don’t go out with wet hair - you will catch a cold. (This one is from my wife -- and I'm not sure if she was messing with me when she submitted it. I.e. I don't know that she doesn't believe it, and I don't even know that it's not true.)

If you stepped on a sidewalk crack you would break your mother’s back. (I still have a slight phobia of cracks in concrete). 

When I heard my grandmother had a stroke I thought my brother hit her with a hockey stick. 

I was just uncertain enough about whether putting hand lotion on your face would make you grow little hands there, to prevent me from trying it.

I used to think that even glancing at the sun would make you go blind. 

Sexuality

I knew sperm swam from the penis into the vagina to make babies. I also knew from home and television that married couples slept in one bed. I knew sperm looked cute like fish. I thought couples would watch sperm swim across the bed sheets from the father to the mother.

I was told by my older sibling, who believed this too, that girls had periods and boys had ejaculations. 

I believe that the song afternoon delight was about ice cream. (If you're wondering why this is categorized under "sexuality", you just discovered another childhood mis-belief!)

Around the House

I was convinced the noises I heard at night were UFOs.

I used to think that plants pee right after you water them.  

Geography

I thought when my grandmother went to Florida, she went to HerAmi. And when I was corrected, I was utterly confused - "Why would she go to YourAmi?" (the person who was speaking), "Didn't she have one of her own? And how does one get to one's Ami in Florida, anyway??" because it had a beach and seashells so it must be awesome.

And... a Few of David's Childhood Mis-Beliefs

I used to think that "Seasons in the Sun" was actually written by a death-row inmate. I'm pretty sure one of my sisters told me that.

I was led to believe by my mom that ice cream was a healthy alternative to cake for dessert. This belief persisted until I was married. Now my wife has taught me that dessert doesn't require healthy alternatives.

I was led to believe by my mom that patterned polyester was a stylish alternative to denim. My sisters disabused me of this notion when I was still wearing polyester as a teen.  

 

A bleary eyed daddy writes to his baby on her 25th birthday

Before the rest of the world wanted you and loved you and made demands on you,
There was just me and you (and a few others) who got every precious portion of your time.

Before your dreams took you 5-hours-by-plane and 3-timezones away,
There was just you and me and no distance between us.

You were sparkly and beautiful and an unceasing delight. My own personal sun beam.
I could never get enough of your face or your wildly distinct personality.

Selfless from the day you were born.
Bold and stubborn and curious and always pulling away to climb something.
Deeply caring about what others needed.
Born to be a big sister.

Before the rest of the world caught a glimpse of who you were,
I knew who you were.

I knew your dreams would take you far. I knew you'd follow them.
I knew you'd jump from a plane someday.
And that you'd conquer whatever the world threw at you.
And that you'd cry when things didn't go your way, and then they would.
And that you'd have friends - the best kind of friends - who need you in their life.
And that you'd always make people laugh and I'd always make you laugh.
And that you'd always be sparkly and beautiful.

When you first left for school, I missed you like crazy.
I had forgotten what it was to miss someone, and you reminded me.
And you were only two-hours away by car. A ride I'd make whenever you said you needed me.
And then you went further, too far away for me to come running when you need me.
But just ask and I will.

I'm not used to you being so far, and I still hope you'll live close again someday.
But I get it, you've got things to do for now. And I'm so proud that you're doing them.

Today, you're 25 and I'm not there to hug you and admire you and congratulate you in person.
But I am there, with you - like I always have been and always will be.
Proud and sad and happy and missing you.

From your dad and biggest fan, who loves you very, very, very much - happy birthday.

Quick Thoughts about My Baby Sister

Just some quick thoughts this morning - on the occasion of the birthday of my youngest sister - because I really have to get working...

1. My sister - let's call her J. - is the first Senior ever in the history of the world who runs the risk of being carded. 
2. J is the biggest Toronto sports fan ever, but only if you measure bigness in terms of the gap between normal demeanour, and the demeanour during and after losses. (The worse they do, demeanour she gets).
3. J and I grew up eating from only the four food groups (peanut butter and jam, hamburgers and hot dogs, chicken, and dessert). I grew up. (To be fair, I think she eats salad too now).
4. When J and I were little, we were the two most innocent, straight-laced, naive, optimistic young souls, who believed only in the goodness of the world. Then a woman (for whom I will use a pseudonym), Mrs. Purlander, showed up and showed us otherwise.
5. J got her driver's license in her 40's and her Masters in her 50's. Maybe she'll learn how to go through a meal without spilling her drink in her 60's?
6. J cared so much about me that when she felt she was getting too old to supervise me anymore, she decided it best to marry my Camp Counsellor so he could help.
7. Most of the times she's two years older than me, but for two-and-a-half months every year, she's three years older. It's during these precious 7 or 8 weeks that I usually like to gloat about her advanced age and my relative youth. This year - and for the next 2+ - there are many places that recognize her as a "Senior" but exclude me from that group. Looking forward to that.
8. J is my very oldest friend in the world (and by oldest, I mean longest-standing - she's only top 5 in terms of oldest oldest). She sets the bar high in terms of aging gracefully, staying young on the surface and even younger at heart, and being 100% genuinely the same person she's always been. No artifice. No "airs" (but 3 heirs). No b.s. J is J and always will be.

Happy J-day!

Love your baby brother.

David and Family at Home with Nature

As most of you know, we moved this year. 

The biggest difference between the old house and the new house is that we now have a bigger backyard surrounded by mature trees and bushes, a beautifully landscaped (by someone else) garden, and a screened-in back porch where we can enjoy the wonders of nature.

For the first time in forever, my wife and I can sit outside in the morning (sometimes) enjoying coffee/tea in the fresh air, toil together in the garden (even more sometimes), and sit in the back having a robust, outdoor meal without an onslaught of flies, bees, and mosquitoes. 

Out little oasis...or so I thought.

The problem is that with all these back-to-nature highlights come back-to-nature animals. Which isn't so much a problem in itself, except that it turns out that I married Elmer Fudd. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Foxes

A forgettable Jodie Foster movie from 1980, and a mid-spring appetizer for our summer of critters.

One morning shortly after we moved in, my wife texted me some photos of a gorgeous fox family that had made our home their home. They had a den in the back shrubbery, birthed a youngster, taught it to hunt and eventually moved on.

My wife took it all in stride, had an animal removal company over to analyze the situation, found out they were mostly harmless (and would move on) and then basically accepted them as co-inhabitants.

They were beautiful, kept a respectful distance, and except for the small risk of them eating our ex-Neighbours' dog who occasionally visited, were mostly harmless.

Wow. Nature is so cool.

Mice

The old owners had a few traps near where they kept the garbage, so we basically suspected there must be some mice about. Every now and then, one of the foxes would show up with a little mouse snack-pack in its jaws, so they were definitely earning their keep.

And after the foxes moved on, we didn't really see any...except one, living a meagre existence inside the walls of an outdoor shed (more about that shed later). And he only showed his face when the flood waters occasionally arose in the area of the shed.

But the wife wanted him gone, and so I bought a few traps (the kind that hide all the killing stuff inside), loaded them with cheese, and they've been sitting there un-sprung ever since. No sign of little Mickey, and no problem for David so far.

But then came the...

Squirrels and Chipmunks

Who can hate squirrels and chipmunks? Right? They're so cute and fluffy. They sing wonderful little ditties in high-pitched voices. They scurry and scrounge and dart this way and that. They have big round eyes and tiny little faces.

Well, they also like climbing our screens. And (according to Elmer) they want to climb the screens so they can nest inside our outside ceiling and chew on wires, take infectious little craps, make infectious little babies crawling with germs, and do all manner of ill deeds.

One day, I came home and all the screens were up (meaning no bug-free meals). Why? Because the f***ing chipmunks had been discovered ascending the screens and disappearing into the top. The animal removal guy (him again) said they'd destroy our porch 'fer sher' (he actually said it that way) if we didn't do something - and for a start, raising the screens was the something.

The 8-year-old became Elmer's alarm system, screaming an alert whenever one of these cute little critters showed their cute little face. Then Elmer would come charging from wherever she happened to be in the house, broom in hand, waving it madly at the by-then absent critter.

She spoke of buying one of those tiny spy cams and mounting it at the top of the screen to see what they were up to in the ceiling. We bought a plastic owl to scare them off (which didn't work and probably made us the laughing stock of the critter kingdom). And we spent weeks alternating between screens-up and screens-down.

For all you animal advocates out there, you'll be happy to know that Elmer never got herself a little shotgun, though I'm pretty sure I missed the chance for the best anniversary gift ever if I had bought her something of that ilk.

They're still doing it. Our screens still go up whenever we see one. And even as recently as yesterday, the middle child gloriously and mockingly ran after a cute little squirrel with a deeply disturbing bellow and lots of hand-waving (by the middle child, not the squirrel) and we all laughed about it. Except Elmer, who appreciated the support.

Raccoons

Ever heard of a raccoon latrine? Look it up...it's a thing. And we have one.

Remember my post about a late-night encounter with a threesome of raccoons on the roof of our little outdoor shed? And they guff they gave me when I asked them to go? Turns out they weren't just there hanging out one night. No, no, no. They were there pooping to their little hearts' delight.

At the time of this writing, I am quite intimately familiar with their poops. I could describe them to you in great detail, but I won't. I will just tell you that we tried several things to deter them (including the owl) and nothing worked (For example, the owl ended up on the ground, with the threat "DONT F WIT ROCKY" carved in its face by tiny claws).

We bought these spiky plastic strips (that appeared on Dragon's Den) and I crawled onto the roof and screwed them down in a zig-zaggy pattern thinking "who would want to poop while standing on a spiky plastic strip?" We got a single little "F You" poop between strips on the first night, then a symphony of poops on the next few nights -- a veritable chorus of disdain -- each poop carefully placed in the two-inch gaps between zig-saggy spiky plastic strips.

So just this weekend, I put up chicken wire, moved the spiky plastic strips to the top of the adjoining fence, and so far - one night now - no poops.

Too soon to declare victory? I THINK NOT.

Dead Bird

One showed up a few mornings ago, out on the deck in peaceful respite, lying on its side. We tried to pay the 8-year-old to don rubber gloves, pick it up and dispose of it. She accepted the assignment, then got cold feet just before executing the plan. So Daddy had to step up and save the day. I did, with astonishing calm and remarkable courage. 

Then, I went inside to eat some Swiss Chalet.

---

So far, Elmer has basically done no harm to nature but has given a few animals a good laugh. She hates raccoons and squirrels and chipmunks with a passion that I find strangely alluring. 

Me, on the other hand...I put down two mousetraps and picked up one dead bird. By my reckonin' (as the animal removal guy would say) that makes me the true hero of the summer.

But Elmer -- you keep hunting. Your time will come.

Reflections on a DC Vacation

Four-fifths of my little family went to DC for a short vacation last week (the eldest is on a long-term vacation called "School in Vancouver" and couldn't join us).

Besides having a really great time, eating amazing food, surviving a minor Airbnb mis-step (don't ask), dining with a cherished local camp friend and her husband, exploring some wonderful museums, and spending tons of high quality moments as a (four-fifths) family -- I found myself genuinely moved by several experiences on the visit. That's what I want to dig into here.

Let me start with the punchline: The world needs more America.

That is to say, the world needs the strong and united America that was idealized by its Founding Parents. It may never have existed except as the dream of some truly visionary people a few hundred years ago, but boy does the world need what they were preaching and what's there, carved in stone, on their monuments...

Jefferson: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." 

Lincoln: "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal..."  

Lincoln: "With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan – to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations."

Standing at Lincoln's knee and reading his words was profoundly moving; especially so after a very long walk on a hot day passing war memorials, homeless people, families with frisbees, the Capitol Building and Washington Monument at our backs - thirsty, tired, and at the top of a grand stone stairway; it was like all of that was a ritual cleansing to prepare us for the reminder of what the US is supposed to be about, and we deeply felt it. (And we're Canadian, for God's sake.)

Likewise for the Jefferson Memorial - the grandeur of the monument and the simple clarity of the words "...all men are created equal..."

What happened? How can people revere these individuals and what they stood for and be so deaf to their messages?

John Adams was 'making sense' centuries ago on these questions:

"The essence of a free government consists in an effectual control of rivalries" and "Remember, democracy never lasts long. It soon wastes, exhausts, and murders itself. There never was a democracy yet that did not commit suicide."

But why?

My wife and middle-daughter went to the Holocaust Museum; the younger one and I went to the Spy Museum instead (which by the way, was the best museum I've ever been in for kids). The ponderous silence of the usually garrulous duo spoke volumes when we met up afterwards: How? Why? And how can the world not have learned?

Between these overpowering moments, we saw live music, ate amazingly un-American meals (that is to say light and elegant), played games, shopped and walked the city. And then my wife and baby went home, leaving me and the middle one alone together for two more days in the city.

That's when we took in the art galleries. And boy, did I underestimate the impact of that. (Highly regretful that we didn't bring the 8-year-old there because of my childhood perception that art is boring - which is not to say that Art, my father, is anything of the sort).

Layered on top of those reminders of the American Dream, the stark reality of homeless people and the privileged sharing the same parks and spaces, and the monuments to recent and long-ago war-to-end-all-wars wars - the art packed a punch that was completely unexpected: Modern art and artists delivering their messages about war, peace, love, and everything in between - and in a few cases inviting the observer into the delivery of messages (the wishing tree, the "My Mommy is Beautiful" wall); and all the artists who came before, who lived in very different times and saw the world with very different eyes - whether soldiers in the trenches or painters in the employ of a royal court - delivering their messages loud and clear from long ago... it all made sense in the context of the week's experience.

These people - the artists and the Presidents - they stood for something and stood up for something. They faced people who told them not to do what they were doing, and they did it anyways. They had the courage to believe in something and act accordingly. They changed the rules. They lived and died and are remembered because of what they left behind. And all the little things that dragged them down in their day-to-day are long forgotten. Why does it bug me so much when I'm cut off in traffic?

So I leave Washington intending to be a better, more focused person at work and at home.

And I leave wondering how the country with such an evocative and expressive capital city, and such a deep and obvious love of its history, its Founders' ideals, art, music, food... how that country can be so far astray today, in a world that needs it so badly to get back on track?

Why can't that country stop treating its political system as if it's Friday Night Texas high school football and you must cheer for one team and despise the other? Why can't they find it within themselves to fight together, instead of against each other, for their ideals?

As one lady said to my 22-year-old (on a DC Ducks tour no less), paraphrased: "It's up to your generation. You have the power and the means to fix it. You just have to do it."

But that's passing the buck a little (or a lot). We all have the power and the means. These are our times. The mandate of building a better world is in our hands. The accountability for doing what's right lies with us right now, and not our ancestors or the generations to come.

The world isn't a reality tv show we're all watching. We're the authors, we're the producers, we're the artists, we're the leaders, ... and we should find the will to act accordingly.

Thank you, DC (of all places!), for the reminder.

Mental Purge

Every now and then, I just have to purge things from my brain. This is one of those times.

Begin purge...

During the dark ages, there were probably a lot of sleepless knights. 

Would we still think ill of hyenas if they were called "chipmunks" or "bunnies"? 

I miss the sound of a couple of pennies jingling in my pocket, but that's just my two-cents' worth. 

I forgive everyone who has ever farted in my presence - what's past is past. 

I wonder if flies have a saying: "What happens on flypaper stays on flypaper". 

In food, tasteless is the same as bland, but in words and deeds, tasteless and bland are very different things. 

One can't own the sky, but Ione Skye (when you're purging, you can say anything). 

I'm still angry about the time that guy got Pringles crumbs all over my shoulder. 

What's the right way to rub someone? 

I'm 52, which is exactly how many cards there are in a deck (if I were playing with a full one). 

I wouldn't be caught dead as a zombie or a vampire. 

Why are you coming to my mall to shop for trend-forward clothing, shoes, handbags, accessories and more? Your Guess is as good as mine.

...End Purge 

If You Make a Noise Outside Your Middle Daughter's Bedroom

 With apologies to Numeroff and Bond...and based on a true story...