What are you afraid of?

A friend recently posed this question and I thought about it as I sat in yet another traffic jam on the way to work – why do they have to start roadworks on a Monday morning?

I’m scared of the obvious things like dying painfully or my family being hurt but there was one thing that popped into my mind immediately. Worms.

Yes, I know they’re harmless and they do good things to the soil but they are nasty and EVIL. There’s no argument to it. They are the creatures of the devil. They wriggle and slime and…. I hate them with a passion that’s quite out of proportion.

I was going to put a picture of a worm here but I couldn’t bring myself because…

 THEY ARE EVIL!

How about this for out of proportion?

When I was about 8 I dreamt that there were worms at the end of my bed. I screamed. I cried. I refused point black to get back in the bed. My mum made me up a bed on the floor with some cushions and a sleeping bag.

 

I slept there for about the next 9 months. Yes, nine months. In the end I couldn’t remember why I was sleeping there, I just knew I didn’t want to get back in the bed. Mum had to buy me a new Barbie cover before I would go back. On a side note: isn’t my mum amazing? I wouldn’t put up with a kid like me.

Now I’m older I avoided gardening because of the evil that lurks under the soil. But I like flowers, they’re pretty, and no one else would plant them except me. 

I am getting better. First time I tried to plant a lovely pink….thing (no, I’m not that good with plant names) in the front garden, and saw one of the devil’s children I might have screamed at the top of my voice and ran down the road.

Now I just make a meep sound, go white and lock myself in the house until it’s gone.

That’s progress, isn’t it?