In kindergarden the teacher told me to lift the seats on the tables. I said to her:"I´m not your butler".
She was realy pissed of. Later my parents said my answer was great, but I better don`t say a word to the teacher about what my parents think.
Greetings
garfield

Well as a "kid" I loved scareing the the hell out of pepole, magicly or otherwise. On the same subject, one night when I was 14 I escaped mecanical restrants 5 times dispite being hevaly medicated at the time.

People stop to notice how cute I am day to day since the moment of my glorious birth.

When I was about five, my mother took me to the swim wear section of a department store, and while she was browsing the bikinis and bathing suits, I stepped up next to a mannequin in a bikini and pulling on the brief and looking down to see what was inside, to my dissapointment there was nothing, meanwhile two old ladies came by and one said 'wah! ham sup lo ah!'- which is cantonese for: What a pervert!

Teachers (and adults in general actually) always offered me leading roles, and always thought me to be mature and responsible.
I got to draw all the year books, edit the school paper (with a lot of my own poems), paint + decorate the school library (there is still a large Harry Potter painting I made hanging on the wall there) and I got the longest parts in all the school plays,.
I remember getting my hands on a specific long monologue someone else was supposed to do…I don't remember how, I just remember I was pleased to get it after all.
I was also the one other kids kept coming to for advice, or for help.
And I could almost always make teachers believe my lies.
I consider the above to be magical workings, though I don't think it had anything to do with being a child; none of this was enabled because I was "cute".
Frankly, earlier in my childhood I was down-right evil:
I threw my grandmother's glasses out of the third-floor window, run away from kindergarten, smashed my had into my sister's glass door (I still have the scars of 12 stitches), abused my Barbie dolls, got into fist fight... And all this (and a lot more) before the age of 6!

Fortunately, I turned out to be the well-mannered young lady I am today (=

When I was a kid small enough to fit completely inside a bathtub I used to fill it up completely, go under and imagine I was in an undersea adventure. I would force my chest in and out and imagine I was breathing. One time I was in the 'ocean' imagining I was the submarine from my favorite TV show (going toot...to.toot.. pingin my sonar) when my father yanked me out out the bathtub completely panicked. He said I had been underwater for several minutes and was so unresponsinve he thought I was dead... (I wonder how many brain cells I burned then from oxygen depravation, I was completely inmersed in my own world)..

Traveller.

P.S. I had a phase in my childhood in which I experimented with astral projection, I think I even succeeded once or twice. Those were days in which my imagination soared and I could create very vivid fantasies and dreams. As I write this I feel a little sad those days are gone. I'll try to make an effort to recover the sense of creative wonder I once had.

How rude of me to not contribute to my own thread.

When I was seven or so, I lived in an old PMQ with white walls. I didn't like the fact that my walls were that color. To me it was masterpiece waiting to happen. So I grabbed a few pencils, markers and crayons. And went to town.

It was a picture of a house and happy birds and trees.

My parents let me keep it on the wall for a month.

You may be closer than you know.

Im not quite sure what age I was but when I was younger I would say things the wrong way.My mother thinking it was funny would tell me things to say and one day she told me about the birds and the bees and after that I would describe sex as "the peanuts go into the pajamas"yea guess what i was trying to say.

The teachers at school disliked me because I was a 'daydreamer' and always wanted to do things the other way especially during our little 'art-hour'.
When they suggested blue for painting the sky I took red and when they told me the sky wasn't red I told them "It's my world not yours!"
I remember being very upset about it and I got a good whupping at home for being so rebellious. The other kids thought I was mad but one teacher thought it was great and even supported me.
She was so sweet and had lovely red hair that looked like fire in the sun. All my girlfriends so far have had red hair
I still hate it when adults interfere with kids and tell them how to do it 'right'.

Some art teachers are should quit teaching art. I'm sure that your pictures were much more interesting than anyone elses. Your parents weren't very supportive either. It's hard for a young Satanist.

I don't ever remember being cute or doing anything cute.

Here's another one I remember from when I was real young(I can't recall the exact age, but it was young). I was at a restaurant with my parents, I believe a Hardee's. This particular one had one of those ball-pits with the plastic balls to swim in.

I recall sneaking into the playland, where a manager was sitting with her back turned to the door. She was heavily focused on paperwork. I, utilizing the art of the invisible, quietly slipped off my shoes and crept into the ball-pit. She never heard me go in and I buried myself under the balls and laid on my back, listening.

Another manager walked in to ask her a question and when she did, I wiggled a toe to make one of the balls move. The one who had just came in asked the other if anyone was in the pit. She of course said that she hadn't seen anyone come in. When the other said she swore she saw a ball move, I jumped out and screamed. The look on both of their faces was priceless.

Here's two:
We had a small park surrounded by about 20 houses. One winter a heavy snow fell, making a clean slate of the park. I told my older sister we were going to draw a picture and to follow me. I walked out a drawing of a cartoonish character, with my sister following to thicken the tracks. It was no Nazca line, but when we ran back home and told our Mom to look out the window, it was inmistakably the same drawing I'd been doodling for months/years. Turns out it was clearly visible from all the houses. Everyone wanted to know what "it" was. My 15 minutes of fame, I guess.

A little later in my childhood I'd go for walks by myself. When a door would open or a car would go by I'd hide - in bushes, under cars, in people's backyards, etc. I wasn't actually *doing* anything that I didn't want to be caught at but for some reason I just really enjoyed sneaking around unseen, watching people, listening to bits of conversations, etc.

Reminds me of the time when I was much younger (about 5) I used to go out and use my feet to drag large "bird" prints in the snow and then run into my mother screaming about the giant chicken that ran across our yard.

When I was a little kid, there have been situations when my parents or other relatives were truly astonished as they had the impression that I possessed the ability to foresee events to a certain degree.

Once, I asked my parents, where aunt X was at that moment, shortly before she showed up for what she thought would be a surprise visit. Similar things took place with dreams that I used to have back then containing hints to events that would later on really take place.