At least now I know better

Last night at dinner, Bug said something about "salmon skiing." We were confused for a moment, and then realized he meant "slalom." We had a good laugh, especially as I remembered I had thought the same thing as a kid.

It got me thinking about other misperceptions I had as a child. Obviously, there are a lot. We all have them. Many of them are just based on a blissful ignorance of the world.

But a couple have stuck with me, just because of how silly they seem now.

When I was little, I used to ask my mom what my name was going to be when I grew up. Katherine seemed like a little girl name. I didn't know any grown ups named Katherine. I was convinced that when I grew up, I was going to get a proper, suitable adult name. Like Kimberly.

Just like my boys do now, I remember getting into bed with my parents. And when my dad was out of town, it was the biggest treat to actually be invited to sleep in my mom's bed. But she would always joke about how much we moved around at night. This translated in my mind that grown ups must sleep very still. I used to practice lying in bed at night, on my back, with my arms and legs straight. Not moving. Of course, I never woke up in this still, stiff position. But I kept practicing. There was no way I was going to bother my future husband with my moving around at night.

When I was about 7, the most wonderful thing in the world was to grow up and be a teacher. And in my mind, from having a literary diet heavy on Laura Ingalls and Anne of Green Gables, I was sure there was nothing more wonderful than teaching in a one room school house. Little did I know I was at least a century too late for that.

But at that time, I was pretty sure we would have flying cars by the year 2010, as well.