Things I believed as a kid

My father is a man with an enormous imagination and has always tried to make me believe all kinds of tall tales. Mainly as a child I believed all sorts of things that eventually turned out to be untrue.

Once, while on vacation in Florida, I found a huge seashell on the beach. I was about five or six and had found the most beautiful seashell ever, I was so proud of myself, c’est pas normal. Years and years later my dad let it drop that he had bought the shell in a souvenir shop and had buried it in the sand, making sure I would practically walk into it. My world fell apart when I found out I hadn’t actually found that stupid seashell myself. And there was more.

Cloudmakers

You know those big factories along the highway that produce smoke? For a long time I seriously believed they were cloudmakers. Where else could clouds come from? All seemed very logical to me.

Earth rays

I once asked how it was possible that you see yourself upright on the back of a spoon and upside down on the hollow side. “Well,” my father said, “that’s because earth rays come out of your nose and turn your image upside down.” SERIOUSLY. That turned out to be false as well.

Traffic lights

I secretly believed that little animals lived inside traffic light poles and that they walked from the button to the lights to say someone was waiting and it was time to go green. And if someone was impatiently pushing the button numerous times I was afraid the little guys would get a scolding, so that’s something I never did. Poor little fellas.

Cat’s tail

I’d like to blame my father for this but I’m not sure I can. Anyway I used to think the position of our cat’s tail was a way to interpret the cat’s mood. Up was happy and content, down was sad and depressed, and somewhere in the middle; the cat was thinking about it. So whenever this happened I started petting like crazy so it would go up again and if the tail was down it almost broke my heart and a lot of cuddling had to be done.

Everything feels something

Throwing out stuffed toys or Barbie’s, I really couldn’t do it because I was convinced they would think I had abandoned them. At one point it went even further as I threw out a piece of paper on the street, turned around and felt sorry for that little piece of paper lying alone on the street, so I went to pick it up. That has passed but I do get worryingly attached tot non-living objects. I call my bike Daisy, through the years my Macbooks have had names varying from Marc to Max, my bags are called Proenza and Chloé and I recently called May’s new Twingo: North because it goes well with our department’s new bike Blue Ivy.

Poo at sea

My mother once told me that if you poo in the sea it will follow you all the way to shore – and everyone will be able to see it yours. I can tell you I never ever pooed in the sea.