| Hahahahahhahaa... I forgot about that.
OK, me and John were having this conversation on Saturday about the stupid things parents make up and tell their kids to get them to behave. I told him my story, which was this:
When I was 3 or 4 (definately before I started school, I still lived in Balornock), my Dad was painting my bedroom. He told me not to touch the wet paint, because if I did, a wee bell would ring to let him know I had. Being just a bairn, of course it never occured to me how that might work, I just assumed it to be true. While he was painting, I was jumping on the bed or something, and fell off... and landed straight against a wall that had just been painted. I was covered in blue paint. My Dad was going nuts at me, but that wasn't bothering me, nor was the fact I was covered in paint. I was too concerned about the fact that there was no bell ringing... it really confused me. Perhaps the paint was broken, I thought?
It wasn't until I thought about it a couple of years later that it occured to me that my Dad was telling lies to keep me from touching the paint. And it scarred me for life... here I am, at 26 years old, and in my more distant/tired/distracted moments I still find myself subconciously pondering how exactly you could make a bell ring through contact with wet paint... | 
