Phobia

My friend just sent me an e-mail questionnaire about fears. As a general rule, I do not respond to e-mail surveys. I would like to pretend it is because I am too busy at work to be bothered, but it is more likely because I am too busy at work screwing around on Facebook to be bothered. For some reason, I guess I was in the mood to ponder what scares me. I post below because after spending a full fifteen minutes (a.k.a. $75 in billable hours) completing it, I realized I have been wasting time all day and felt guilty. But if I POST it - I feel less like I am wasting time and more like I am ... Oh, I don't know. I needed a mind break. That is my story and I am sticking to it.

Things I am really scared of:

1. Spiders
2. Terrorists
3. Wal-Mart
4. People that use phrases like "I doesn't …" (see Wal-Mart)
   
5. My bikini wax lady
   
6. Dog ick on public sidewalks (Ethan's shoes always find it and it makes me gag. Bring a baggie, people.)
   
7. Nuts (and Epipens)
   
8. Certain judges
   
9. Blue food
   
10. Bats (the flying kind)
    
11. Blood (mine or that of others)
    
12. Raw chicken (so … eww… sinew-y)
    
13. Visible panty lines (a public health crisis)
    

Things I am not scared of:

1. Roller coasters and upside-down amusement park rides
   
2. Heights
   
3. Dentists (Hi Dad!)
   
4. Horses (or jumping horses over 4-foot fences)
   
5. Big dogs (either the animals or the 1980's T-shirt brand)
   
6. The number thirteen
   
7. Tequila shots
   
8. Aliens
   
9. Rabies (I have been through the full complement of rabies anti-serum, thanks to my ill-fated attempt to rescue a Baltimore stray cat)
   
10. Knock-off handbags (ChanNel – good enough!)
    

Things I am little scared of:

1. Flying (Actually, it is more the crashing that concerns me. The flying part is fine.)
   
2. The teacup ride at Disney World
   
3. Sharks (BUT I would go on a Great White cage dive in a heartbeat. Awesome.)
   
4. Jogging at night (Ok – jogging, in general)
   
5. The fact that I suspect that my Blackberry is smarter than I am and would win in an IQ challenge
   
6. The "7s" question at the neurologist (if you are not lucky enough to have your own neurologist, this makes no sense to you)
   
7. When my husband says "Oh, I can fix THAT!" (if you are lucky enough to have your own husband, this makes perfect sense to you)
   
8. When my husband goes to the grocery store and I actually need specific items (Milk!? What!? And WHERE am I supposed to find something like that?!)
   
9. Raising a teenage boy (someday)
   
10. Not raising a teenage boy (someday)

Regarding said boy, he has his own fairly significant and creative list of fears. Ethan does not like to sleep in his room at night, alone. I wish it were just a simple fear of the dark we were dealing with. But if you met me, you would realize that with my "worry" genes, it likely goes much deeper than that. I (foolishly) thought that we could have a rational discussion about "scary things" by talking about them and thereby alleviate some of the fear. Umm. No. And no.

Salient highlights of this conversation:

Good mother attempt: "Why don't you tell me what scares you and then we can talk about it?"

"Nooooo! I am too scared to talk about it!"

After much cajoling on my part, the list began with, "Seals in the bathtub ..."

Me, confused: "Um? Seals? Like Navy Seals? Like, Miss Rachel's husband? Because he is really nice!"

It turns out he was referring to the "Ark, Ark" kind of seal, the ones that like fish and balancing balls on their noses. Those vicious, blood-thirsty monsters of the deep.

I tried. I pointed out how cute seals were and how they only ate fish and how they like ocean water, not bath water ... but, ultimately, I could not satisfactorily reassure him that I was 100% SURE that there was NO possible way EVER that a seal could not get into our bathtub. Maybe one would escape from the circus in Baltimore and hitchhike thirty minutes up I-95 to our suburb where it would notice that our front door was unlocked and turn the knob with its big flipper then flip up the stairs and discover our bathtub, where it would lay in wait until Ethan's bath that night. Unlikely? Yes. But could it happen? I suppose it could. I just read an article about a woman in Maine who found a 9-foot python in her washing machine. Things happen. And so we moved on to ...

"Men on stilts looking through my bedroom window at night while I am sleeping ..."

Um? I asked (gently, while biting the inside of my cheek) whether he had even SEEN a man on stilts. In our neighborhood. Looking though his window?

He replied, gravely, that he had not. But that he thought about it ALL THE TIME.

I told him that I was fairly certain that men, even those on stilts, were not tall enough to reach up to the second-story window and that if they tried to they would probably be unsuccessful because the window is so high.

I knew I had lost this match when I saw his expression change and yet ANOTHER terrifying thought crossed his mind .... Men on stilts falling off their stilts into crumpled heaps!! INJURED AND BLEEDING men in a giant tangled human pile outside of his bedroom window!! While he was sleeping!!

At which point I had no choice. I was forced to concede that indeed, the world could be a horrifying place, and perhaps he should join Jeff and I in our bed tonight. Just to be safe.