I've been poring over the site I Used to Believe: the childhood beliefs site. Here are a few childhood beliefs of my own:
I used to draw small wheels on the bottoms of all my letters. In my kindergarten classroom, there was a wall border poster of the alphabet, with all the letters drawn as the connected cars of a friendly, technicolored train. I believed letters were supposed to have wheels, and continued to believe so until my first-grade teacher finally acknowledged my strange penmanship quirk, got to the bottom of it, and instructed me otherwise.
I believed I could control stoplights with my mind. I don't think that's a particularly unusual childhood belief though, unless my adult friends have just been humoring me all these years. I used to worry sometimes about my mom getting to work on time after she dropped me off at school, without me in the car to speed up the lights for her.
I distrusted my dolls, but knew my stuffed animals were on my side. I would kiss the stuffed animals every night before going to sleep, so that they would protect me from my dolls while I slept. I still hate dolls.
When my dad said he was going to move to Mississippi, I asked him whether she was a nice lady.
In my first poem, written when I was six, I rhymed the words "song" and "New Mexikong."
I was certain that the monster under my bed looked like Rod Stewart.