how times change
I had seen the lights on the dashboard and heard the indicator whenever we were coming up to a turn but it took longer than it should have for me to notice the indicator stalk.

For years I thought the car knew where we were going and told my Dad when we were approaching a turn.
(funky alchemist is neither funky nor an alchemist, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 18:28, Reply)

Daddy Cation
I used to think that Roy Castle was called Daddy Cation, because he used to sing the song "You've gotta have Daddy Cation" on the end titles to Record Breakers...
(SillyMoo, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 17:37, 2 replies)

I blame Enid Blyton
I'm probably not alone in this, but as a naive 8 year old I used to believe that people who were 'helping the police with their inquiries' were enthusiastic amateurs in the Famous Five mode who took time out of their busy lives to do some detective work on the side.

Can't remember ever telling my parents that I fancied doing this later in life or not, but for a time it did rank above being an astronaut or even a footballer.

On a similar note, at about the same age I asked my Dad what 'rape' meant, after reading a story in the local paper. He eventually came out with the explanation that it was when a man had sex with a woman and she didn't want to. 100% accurate, but for a while I believed that this just meant that the woman had a headache or something and the hefty sentences these blokes were getting was rather harsh.
(Milo Minderbinder, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 17:00, 1 reply)

My youngest got quite upset when I told her that we were going to Devon, where Granny lives
Took us a while to work out why...

Turns out she believed that "Devon" and "Heaven" were the same place.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 16:49, 4 replies)

Oh, Vagabond!
You're such a good friend!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 16:48, 3 replies)

Magic hair tonic
I was about 8 when I realised that barbers had no such thing as hair tonic that would make your hair instantly grow just like in the cartoons. From that moment, I was a little more scared of them cocking it up.
(Tom Jones's Mojo Hasn't had any since, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 16:46, Reply)

Living & Growing (where DO babies come from?)
When I was ill at home from 'Junior School' (not sure what they call it these days), I was plonked on the sofa in my Thunderbird pyjamas, a large box of chocolate fingers and lots of tissues, quite cosy under my quilt (I think it was an Action Man quilt, but I digress). Here I watched 'TV for schools' before 'Pebble Mill at One' while my Mother went off to her part-time job

One of the programs was called 'Living & Growing'. It was hosted by a kindly old man who began the program with the immortal words "Have you ever wondered where babies came from?", "Have you ever asked yourself what is the difference between men and women?"

That got my attention (indeed, yes, I had pondered these very questions). The first day of my illness (runny nose, blazingly high temperature) , the program merely enticed the viewer on what would come next. Lots of video shots of couples walking hand in hand in the park (the lady pregnant of course), cutting to other couples (the lady now holding the baby) and then whole families in the park having picnics; and the old man asking more rhetorical questions and telling us what 'Living & Growing' would be about

The next morning (snotty nose, temperature going down) I was glancing at the clock (the red LED one on our JVC video recorder) waiting impatiently for the program to begin

The old man began the second program by describing the two classic 'plumbing' diagrams on the screen. There for the first time in my life, I saw the difference between men & women. I listened with proverbially rapt attention to every word as the old man described how men produce 'sperm' and women produce 'eggs' and what tubes they all travelled along

Next morning (nose clear, temperature back to normal), my Mother decided I was better and could go back to school (my whining had no effect on her whatsoever). But, I ran onto the school playground very excited to tell my friends what I had learnt. They listened to everything carefully (some more boggle eyed than others) and then we all lapsed into silence as everyone digested my profound revelations. Then one of the group, Gary, asked very quietly "How does the sperm get to the eggs?". Well, I had no idea (episode 3 that I was missing) so we put our collective minds together and tried to solve this problem

The answer seemed completely self evident: It must be through kissing. Yes! the evidence fitted the theory! Every soap on TV, every wedding we had seen (you may now kiss the bride) a baby did not seem far off after the kissing began

With immediate effect, every boy in my year went on 'kiss chase' strike. We all point blank refused to play, terrified that we would give the girls babies
(sabre32, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 16:38, 4 replies)

It must have been around 1996 or -7
when Oasis were at the height of their popularity, and I was too young and ignorant to have developed any informed opinions on music. But at that age, when the two songs charted in quick succession and were played endlessly on the radio, I honestly thought that Wonderwall and Don't Look Back in Anger were the same song.

And in hindsight, I can see why.
(LongJohnBaldry, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 16:31, 4 replies)

Television Deaths
I used to think that when people died on the telly that they actually had just been killed.

This didn’t bother me. I used to think the bad guys that got shot by, for example, Clint Eastwood were actual real life criminals.

The really stupid thing is that I understood that the characters in the show were played by actors, that’s why you’d see the same people in different programmes. But I couldn’t understand that the people who got shot and pretended (badly) to spin around and fall in the water trough were acting.

So I came to the conclusion that they must be criminals being killed for their real life crimes as they wouldn’t kill nice people in the show.

On the other hand, I refused to believe that anyone could be killed from having a fist fight. I’d seen fights at school and no one ever died. You only died from being shot, stabbed, blown up or drowned. Nobody ever died from being repeatedly punched in the face.
( Dervel OTBC, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 16:20, Reply)

Lookout! Cliff!
My parents saw Cliff Richard at the same venue in so many times in my early childhood, that I was about 9 or 10 before I realised that Cliff's Pavillion, in Essex, wasn't called that because he lived there, but because...you know...its on a cliff.
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 15:58, 1 reply)

John Craven
As a nipper, I always used to get confused when watching John Craven's Newsround when he was talking about gorillas fighting in some unheard of African province. I wondered how difficult it would be to train a gorilla to hold a gun, let alone fire one. It wasn't until years later that I learned what a guerilla was...
(Ghostlight, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 15:46, 5 replies)

Mrs Vagabond Snr told Mrs Vagabond when she was very wee that
Her left hand was "The one that's closest to the wall".
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 15:01, 12 replies)

Not me. Friend of Mrs Shmoo.....
told her that when she was young, her father pointed out that the Ice-cream van only played the tune to let you know he'd run out ices and lollies.
( NooShmoo It's a fantazmagorical pile of ultra bollocks, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 14:52, 3 replies)

Sharp intake of breath through pursed lips
I'm sorry mate - your car's got Big End Trouble.

Which I thought meant that the car had reached its final full stop and was to be driven no more. It had reached its natural conclusion. This was not just any ending - it was the BIG ENDing.
(karnuvap, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 14:48, 3 replies)

"Bullies are just cowards and they'll back off if you stand up to them."
"Cheaters never prosper."
"Just be yourself and people will like you."

There must be more.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 14:46, 7 replies)

Martin Luther King Jr. Defender of Waiter's Rights.
I did adore my late Grandfather, despite some questionable beliefs he held (actually, there should be a QOTW about racist Grandfathers, so I can get things like this off my chest.).

He was great to me, so I find it hard to associate the man I loved with some of his outdated views. He absolutely spoiled me rotten, but he did, occasionally, get a bit fed up, waiting on us hand and foot. After coming back from the kitchen for the umpteenth time in the same day with milk, or chocolate, or grapes (peeled, no less!) or cola or sandwiches or cakes, one request too far prompted the response 'What did your last nigger die of?'. After the question to my mother of "What's a nigger?" and some no doubt harsh words between her and Granddad, and then their shared desire to avoid any further difficult questions from me, I spent a good few years believing that a nigger and a waiter were interchangeable terms. I'd love to be able to tell you that I only learnt differently when being taken out to dinner by a posh girlfriend's parents some years later, but fortunately for me, I think i just slowly realised over time that I had been lied to
( scarpe We Stole Bikes, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 14:44, 1 reply)

When I was a kid I stupidly thought life would get easier as an adult.

( girlinthehole, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 14:42, 12 replies)

Tactics
Through no fault other than my own childhood naievety, I genuinely thought that footballers could only run in the directions prescribed by the arrows and dotted lines commonly seen on pitch diagrams in training rooms, and tv pundit's pre-match analysis/prediction/guess guess work.
I couldn't for the life of me work out how the game would progress if a pass went astray and didn't coincide with a particular player's designated movement range.
I think an upbringing that included plenty of time spent playing John Madden's on the Megadrive may have had something to do with it.
(i.charlius *Two Ronnies Theme*, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 14:41, 1 reply)

Black holes and revelations
Not long after acquiring the power of speech the very young Custard looked up at his father, the source of all knowledge and authority with a troubled expression.

“Dad….”
“Yes son?”
“What are black holes?”

Not accustomed to being questioned on astrophysics by a toddler my dad was slightly taken aback. He quickly marshalled his thoughts and explained in as simple terms as possible about gravity and how some huge celestial objects had so much of it that nothing could escape their pull; not even light and that was why we called them black holes.

I listened attentively and then thought about this new information for some time. Processing. Cogitating.

He dared briefly to wonder as to how one raises, encourages and nurtures a gifted child and the responsibility this brings until I finally broke the silence.

“Dad….”
“Yes son?”
“Rabbits live in black holes don’t they?”
( custardthehedgehog, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 14:21, 7 replies)

Not so much "kid" as "uninformed 12 year old"
I thought I was the only one who had knocked one out. Ever. And that made me a sick bastard. I still remember the freaking out and confusion. The horror at what I'd done. Crying myself to sleep.

Then a few months later I saw a particular episode of South Park, looked the term masturbation up, and a huge weight was lifted from me. It's normal! Everyone does it, I was just an early starter!

I resolved there and then to become knowledgeable about sex, romance, intimacy, psychology, and indeed did so, stopping only to knock one off the wrist. I also resolved to never EVER be ashamed of myself again, which contributed massively to my current laissez faire state of mind.

This rather backfired when my knowledge got me cast as the school pervert and completely ostracised, but, hey, that was years ago now, why would I still be bitter? he asks with only the faintest twitch.

If anyone from my family reads this and DIDN'T realise I was a veritable wanking machine as a teenager, well, welcome to reality. :)

Oh, and a friend told me that men in prison had sex because there were no women around. This much is true. He also said they did it by putting one penis inside the other. This, while possible, is less true. Believed it for years, that one.
(a gun that fires other, smaller guns full of jizz, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 13:53, 18 replies)

Female erection
In 1st year of secondary school a rumour circulated amongst the boys that when girls felt sexy their breasts went hard. Not just the nipples - the whole breast. This seemed reasonable to us boys, based on knowledge of our own anatomies, although I wasn't sure how this went along with the fabled squidginess of boobies. We agreed that one of us should ask the girls about this. That was me, and soon I was being laughed and pointed at by a large group of girls. However I got the last laugh since after the next school disco Rachel led me into the woods and lifted up her top to reveal her perky nipples. I was just about to touch one when she kicked me in the goolies and ran off. But at least I could explain the reality of female anatomy to my pals.
(Smale is stuffed, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 13:46, 1 reply)

Thunder
I believed that thunder was caused by two clouds bumping into each other. My mum had told me so, so I was most annoyed when the teacher at school didn't believe me..!
( claptonista ,the idiot boy.........., Thu 19 Jan 2012, 13:25, 3 replies)

In Highschool I believed that it was only us boys who wanted sex and that girls weren't that interested until married.
Much later I found out they pretty much wanted it as much as we do. So many missed opportunities there.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 13:15, 9 replies)

Chocolate logs
When I was very very young, I mentally made the wrong sort of connection between Cadbury's mini chocolate logs and, er, shit.

I didn't, obviously, think that my shit was made of chocolate or anything stupid like that. I mean, I could smell it and no chocolate smelt that bad.

What I did believe, however, was that each of my logs had the word "Cadbury's" stamped on the underside just where I couldn't see it.
(BearWithLittleBrain, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 13:11, 1 reply)

My nieces.
Ok it's not me but it's funnier than my crusts make your hair curly story. Anyway...

When discusing babies the eldest who's 11 stated that babies come out of your belly button. On hearing this untruth the youngest (7) replies with "Don't be so stupid, they come out your bum"
(BiggestNizzy your company name here pm for rates., Thu 19 Jan 2012, 13:11, Reply)

I used to have such a weird understanding of sex as a child...
Even as a youngster I had quite a scientific approach to understanding the world. As it turns out, my findings were entirely flawed, but the rigorous method was there at least...

As a young child, naturally I wasn't really told anything about sex. Despite this, I came to a number of conclusions. My earliest understanding of reproduction was based on what I knew about chickens. My mum taught me that eggs came from chickens, and that eggs could hatch into baby chickens. The connection to sex was not made at that point, but I was aware of a thing called 'sex', which from what I could gather was a fun adult activity. My conclusion was that women had babies spontaneously and regularly, as chickens lay eggs, and that sex was a game that adults played. I was quite happy in this bubble, confident I understood the complicated problem of human reproduction.

As I got older, I started learning about sex from school friends, who informed me that sex was required to have babies, and that sex was the insertion of a penis into a lady's...thing. A hole or something. No-one really knew what it was. I pondered the idea, and assumed that a girl's genitals would not be drastically unlike a boy's. I reasoned, therefore, that a girl's hole could be no larger in diameter than a boy's peehole. I began to get concerned at this prospect...how could a penis, many times thicker than the tube running down it, fit into a hole of comparable thickness as the inner tube. I thought more about the situation and noticed that, generally, couples who were expecting children often visited the hospital. At the ripe old age of around 10, my conclusion was that in order to have sex the man and woman went to hospital. In this event, the man's penis was split lengthways to reveal the tube, much like a straw, which could be inserted for the sexual act. I remember delivering my findings to my friends in the playground, and naturally met with disgust at the concept. For weeks we ruled out the prospect of ever having sex once we'd grown up, as we concluded that having our knobs chopped in half wasn't worth the hassle.

Eventually we had a proper sex education class at school and we saw exactly how it all works, but for a while I was quite freaked out by the prospect.
( guffguff fuckes your gradeds balls!, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 13:03, Reply)

I was convinced
That chewing tobacco would make me a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus
(brush_em, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 12:48, 5 replies)

I used to think
dogs (and I suppose other animals too) shat out of their tails.
( Ramsay Tupper, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 12:39, Reply)

Richard Branston
invented the pickle
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Thu 19 Jan 2012, 12:11, 1 reply)