When I was a child, I Just Knew
1. That the man who married me would fall in love with me because the freckles on my shoulders made them, in my eyes, resemble Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies. Also, my knees. But it was the shoulders I believed would be the clincher for my suitor, rendered powerless by my intoxicating chip-freckles.
2. That if I used Oil of Olay every day without fail from the age of 20 onward, I'd never ever get wrinkles. Ever. But if I ever forgot, I'd look like a Shar-pei by sunset. I also obsessed a lot about Porcelana Medicated Fade Cream, though I can't remember what my theory was on it.
3. That although my fate was already sealed through my Mom's loose fruit policies, if I never ever allowed my future offspring to eat apples, they would never die. One taste, though, and they were goners.
4. That I would be more beautiful at 40 than at 25. I told people this one, too, which is the most appalling thing about it.
5. That I had The Gift, you know, the one for seeing the true beauty in seashells. I, and I alone, had The Seashell Eye, an ability to say This seashell is far superior to that one you are holding and not be lying. I alone could walk onto a beach and pick out the One Most Beautiful Seashell. Or Six Most Beautiful Seashells. Or whatever. Basically, anything I had in my bucket was better than anything you had in yours. Because you didn't have The Gift. I did. End of story.
(I kinda sorta maybe secretly still believe the fifth one.)
BONUS: (I just remembered this one.) I just knew if I looked from between my dog's pointy ears, I would see any spirits walking about. So every time he would wake suddenly for no apparent reason or otherwie look like he was concentrating on something, I'd grab his head by his ears (think motorcycle) and forcefully turn his head, scanning the whole room.