Now I know better

Thank you to:  CreativeWritingPrompts for today’s topic.  Prompt 100.  I used to think…   Ready, set, go!

I used to think I had magical powers.  I could fly, breathe underwater, and disappear at will. 

I used to think that the headlights from passing cars that raced around the walls of my room were searchlights looking for me. I’d lie frozen on the floor and watch them search, knowing that if I moved even a twitch, they’d find me.

I used to think that my parents would live forever. I must have been wrong about this one.

I used to think that dogs roamed the streets looking for kids to bite (Thank you, Kobuck.)

I used to think I was the only one in the world who was afraid of birds.

I used to think that if I held my breath when I passed a cemetery, evil spirits wouldn’t get in my mouth.

I used to think that the Russians were just over the hill waiting for any sign of weakness to invade my country.

I used to think that my big sister had the keys to the Universe and she just refused to share them with me.

I used to think that if I stepped in the stinkfish square (the last square on the sidewalk with the company’s stamp) that my mother would die.

I used to think that if I wore sandals, I’d get poison ivy.

I used to think that there was a shark living in the lake near our house.

I used to think that the weeds in the lake would grab me and drag me underwater if I let them touch me.

I used to think that my doll was possessed, and that if we buried her body in the front yard and her head in the backyard, she’d never be able to hurt me.  Thank you, big sister, for that tip.

I used to think that Barnabas Collins lived under my bed and that Quentin Collins lived in my closet.  Thanks again, big sister.  Hmmmm….I’m sensing a theme here.

I used to think that Donny Osmond would marry me.

I used to think that everybody in the world had 100 relatives who’d show up on Saturday evenings to drink whiskey and sing “Amazing Grace,” “I belong to Glasgow,” and “Skye Boat Song” until dawn.

I used to think I’d have a houseful of kids.

I used to think my teachers had all the answers.

I used to think that alligators could come up out of the toilet if I forgot to close the lid.

I used to believe in the tooth fairy and santa claus.

I used to think that the US government would always take care of us, and had our best interests in mind.

I used to believe in absolute right and wrong — no gray allowed.

I used to think that I could dig to China in my backyard.

I used to think that when I got married, I’d automatically live happily ever after.

I used to think that life was supposed to be fair.

I used to think that the way to cook vegetables was to open the can, dump them in a pot and boil them until the rest of the dinner was done.

I used to think that everyone told the truth, all the time.  And I used to think that the truth was the same thing for everyone.

I used to think that everyone was looking at me, just waiting for me to stumble.

I used to think I wanted to be a lawyer when I grew up.

I used to be afraid to go to the doctor.  I think I still am.

I used to think I’d always remember every friend I ever made.

I used to think nothing bad would ever happen.

I used to think I had ants.  That’s what my grandma told me when I couldn’t sit still.  I still can’t sit still, so I must have ants.

I used to think I’d know it if I fell in love.    I didn’t realize I’d fallen in love until long after the fact.

I used to think chiropractors were quacks. 

I used to think I was sure about what I knew and didn’t know.   (Now I’m learning to let go of my need for sureness and my need to be certain that the word I just typed is actually a word.  Okay, I should probably change that to “certainty” but I’d weaken my point.)