If you untied your belly-button...

If Litoris was serious then it would be kinda offensive IMO, but I’m thinking it was a joke (like Jesus being in Imagination Land in South Park).

When we asked where we came from, Pops told us he picked us up at the local jail. He added if we acted up, he and Mom could just take us back.

Of course, this is the same guy who said a fella named Juan Taco invented the taco when his tortillas got wet, and he left them on a clothesline to dry.

I tell the Sprout all the time that he came from the Kid Store. He knows it’s a joke, though, and now that he’s 5, he gives as good as he gets.

“We got you from the Kid Store.”
“Yup. I was the best kid in the place.”
“Not really. We found you on the clearance rack.”
“That’s not true! You paid full price for me!”
“Nah, we just told you that to make you feel good.”
“Well, that’s good, 'cause you can’t return clearance stuff.” :stuck_out_tongue:

Evidence? Really?

I told my daughter that the ice cream truck was the music truck, and it drove around playing happy music to make people happy.

I also told her so-and-so had a baby in her tummy because she ate it.

Oh, and when she asked me if monsters were real I’d tell her of course not, and then add a well timed, “Except for the ones under the bed.”

I believe all of those things were ripped from an older thread here on the topic. I’m not terribly original, but I know good stuff when I see it.

My belly button doesn’t have a twist. Huh.

Did you know that you can catch any bird by putting salt on its tail?

My aunt got pregnant as a teenager. My grandfather told me she’d shallowed a watermelon seed. I was 11, I knew better.

My dad was hilarious, too, but my older sister was the one who told the doozies.

She told me that on each Christmas Eve, all the animals in the world were magically imbued with the power to speak to each other in the same language. Of course, to me that language would have HAD to be English, so I was picturing raccoons sitting down over coffee with buffalo and frogs, shootin’ the shit like my parents and my Grandma did after we all went to bed on Christmas Eve.

She told me that when the world ended, Jesus would come around on a trolley to pick up all of the good people.

I have a weird little lump on the back of my neck that’s been there my whole life. She told me when I was little that it was a tumor, that everyone had one, and that nobody could live without one.

That’s just to name a few.

Now she has kids of her own, who are six years old now. I won’t be surprised if the next time I see them, they proudly show me their “tumors”.

It might have seemed like the right time to use this tired bit of board humor to you, but, objectively speaking, it wasn’t, what with there being no denigration of another’s belief system in my snark, and hence no irony. I suppose you get a “C” for effort, though.

More on-topic, my dad would stand by the light and tell me I didn’t have to go to bed if I could be under the covers before the room got dark. I remember demanding second chances even at age 4.

My father would tell me about the horrible sufferings of animals that the furniture and cosmetics industry caused.

For example, he told me that they had to kill dozens of olays just to fill one jar of Oil of Olay. In Spain, they would release the olays into an arena where men with hammers would chase them down and pulverize them while the crowd yelled “Olay, Olay.”

Similarly, he told me that naugas lived in terribly small cages while waiting for the tanner to kill them for their naugahydes. The worst part is, no one even eats the meat, they just use the naugahyde.

Oh, yeah, Dad told me all about the defenseless gnaugas.

The first time I ever went to the beach, my mom told me that when the tide comes in, there’s a big hole in the middle of the ocean. Then it fills back in when the tide goes out.

She’s still laughing at me for buying that one, and it was more than 30 years ago.

Oh I’ve forgotten about my uncle who is about 13 years or so older than I am. He told me and his younger sister that flies take a shit every time they land. It made us afraid to take our eyes off of our food. This story was passed on to my children.

He also told us spaghetti was made of deer and cow innards and that the scary looking stuffed monkey doll my other aunt had was purchased from a Guatamalen taxidermist (Guatemala being an exotic Pacific Island) by my grandfather while he was in the merchant marine.

This comes from a college friend’s dad:
They once had a huge dog show at the World’s Fair. Because they didn’t want the dogs pooping everywhere, they removed their assholes and locked them in the cabinet. During the fair, there was a fire, which caused a panic and a mass exodus, so there was no time for every dog to get his asshole back. They just grabbed whicever one they could find on the way out.

That’s why dogs are always sniffing each other’s butts when they meet. They’re always looking to get their asshole back.

This still makes me giggle

My dad told us kids that the martinis he and my mom drank every night were adult medicine and were the only way they could stand us little bastards. Thanks, Dad.

My parents used to tell me that I had been dropped on their doorstep by Gypsies, and if I didn’t behave they’d call the Gypsies to come take me back.

Coming out of rural Alabama to the DC area, mom was just a little bit of a rube. My dad is from Lumberton NC and once while driving down embassy row on Mass Ave, he had her looking for the Lumberton Embassy. On the Washington monument, the color of the stone changes about a third of the way up to a purer white from when construction stopped for a while. One of my dads coworkers convinced mom that it was the high water mark from hurricane Camille. Dad also convinced her that capers were rooster testicles and that “Kemo Sabe” was Navajo for “Stinky Feet.”

That’s a five year old?! You are in trouble.

I tell my kids (2 & 3) that thunder is clouds bumping into each other.

My father is scared of hospitals and also needs to assess blame for accidents. My brother broke his ankle and my father says “You probably broke the grown center and one leg will end up shorter than the other.” My brother intervened when some kids were torturing an animal and the animal bit my bro. Pop: “Why did you have to go get bit, now I have to stop what I’m doing to take you to the hospital.” So we would actually joke about the amputation thing as a way to tease Pop about his paranoia. “Scrape on your arm? It’ll become gangrenous–better cut it off now.”

Apparently my Nana would tell me the house would fall down if I ran around too vigorously. This made Mom none too happy.