As a child I believed that you got pregnant by kissing, that watermelon seeds grew into vines in your belly if you swallowed them, and that our car knew when you were going to turn and applied the blinker. I believed that the President read three papers at once, in different languages. I imagined that if you gave criminals money, they would stop being criminals. I fantasized buying my own printing press, giving millions to whoever wanted it, but my dad said that was communism.
Once I believed I’d swallowed a battery, even though I couldn’t remember doing that. I believed the human skeleton was solid, like a pile of white rocks. And I believed that dreams were real. I spent half an hour looking for the gold coin I had in my hand one morning when I woke up. Where the devil had it gone?
I believed that dogs were male and cats were female. I wanted to fly in the air and play in the clouds, which I believed were as soft and snuggly as mattresses. I believed that the jets overhead were full of people going somewhere important. I believed that canned spinach would confer great strength if I could only eat it, which I couldn’t.
I thought euthanasia stood for Youth in Asia, and that OD meant Oh Damn, I took too much. I thought adults were mindless robots, that I would never reach puberty, and that I would never have sex.
Once I had sex, I thought I’d never get married. But I did get married, and I believed it would last forever. Then I got married again. Okay, this time it would last forever.
Well, now I’m drawing the line: No more than four divorces.
Next time...it’ll be murder.