Growing up, we’ve picked up most of our day-to-day habits from our parents and guardians, learning to adapt to the world by discovering and mimicking our surrounds. Most of the time, those routine rules are universal, so it’s small wonder that people just assume them to be normal and expect everyone to be on the same page. Nonetheless, there are times when your world abruptly collapses as you recognise you’re the only person in the chamber to bellow slippers ‘fuzzy-footsers’ or that no one in the world devours bananas whole, skin and all.
Did you have any mind-blowing disclosures of your own? Share your tales with other bored pandas to feel less weird about being lied to your whole life!
When I was little I was frightened spiders would eat me while I was sleeping on the top bunk, so my parents had this cool contraption that was a ‘spider-trap-setter’. They’d delivering it in at bedtime, I’d point it around the chamber, and click the handle to organize one tonne of spider traps each night so I could sleep.
Fast forward to my fiance and I registering for marriage talents- he searched a wine bottle opener( with the corkscrew and the arms that go up and down) and I immediately recognized it as a spider-trap-setter. It only then dawned on me that I’d been LIED TO,
When I was a kid I had a tiny Sony stereo for cassettes. I really loved listening to music – and still do – and children’s stories. I would nonetheless merely listen for like an hour or so a day, because I reckoned people within the cassettes would become to tired and unnerved with me.
I was probably 12 or so before I realized that not all kids spend their entire summer vacation farming. I invested my summer days weeding, picking veggies, tending swine, kine, chickens and I enjoyed every minute of it!
My mom and aunt were identical twins. My aunt lived with us from the time I was born until first grade. I never realise until I started Kindergarten that not everyone had two mamas that gazed exactly the same and one papa. What a shocker.
Growing up, whenever I would feed bananas my mouth would ever hurt and sometimes run numb. Kind of similar to how it feels if you eat too much sour candy. It wasn’t until I was 18 years old that I say to my mom ‘Man, I detest the course bananas construct your mouth hurt.’ She then brought me to understand THAT’S NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN. So yeah, turns out I’m allergic to bananas.
In my family, it is a tradition that if somebody bends over they are going to get a swat on the behind. I figured out pretty young that this wasn’t “normal” but continued the tradition anyway. At least until my son was about 4 or 5, and we were at the grocery store. A dame in the aisle in front of us fell her can of pears, and I’ll be damned if my lil’ rascal didn’t run up all excited and swat her on the butt. She spun around with a dismayed saying while I made apology after mortified apologetic. She was cool though. She chuckled and said, “It’s okay, honey. That’s the cutest person that’s swatted me on the butt in a long time.” Props to her, but we still discontinued the practice at home after that.
For the first two or three years after I was potty trained, I thought that everyone peed standing up. So there I was, a little girl with impeccable aim.
My family poops large-hearted. Maybe it’s genetic, maybe it’s our diet, but everyone births giant logs of poop. If anyone has laid a mega-poop, you know that sometimes it won’t flush. Growing up, this was a common enough occurrence that our family had a poop bayonet. It was an old-time rusty kitchen bayonet that hung on a fingernail in the laundry room, only to be used for that intent. It was normal to walk through the hallway and have someone call out “hey, can you get me the poop knife”?
I believe it is standard kit. You have your plunger, your toilet brush, and your turd knife.
I grew up in the country and firmly believed that ice cream trucks were myths and that they only existed on Tv shows.
When I was in kindergarten, I wore my Batman costume to school EVERY DAY! Under clothes, over clothes, rain or shine. Since my mom wasn’t the different types to mash my dreamings of saving Gotham City or to enforce gender roles on me, I was free to be Batman( without judgement) until the centre of first grade when the other girls stopped wanting to play with me.