What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?
This kind of ties in nicely with a post I wrote a short while back, Just another reason to not go wandering. In that post I wrote about some of my relatives and their constant attempts to get me to travel to the opposite side of the earth and visit them in Australia.
But why am I scared to do it? Quite simply I’m a nervous, trembling Arachnophobic. I don’t like those little eight legged freaks. And they probably feel the same about me.
I can pretty much trace my fears back to my childhood, when my parents in their ultimate wisdom used to force my elder brother to take me out to play with him and his mates and he was never too happy with that. However he and his friends had their fun by stuffing creatures such as spiders down my neck, and it is that point, the fear was born.
If I even see the smallest of critters in my house now, my wife will tell you I go up the wall and won’t settle until the invader is found and removed from the house. This can usually involve hours of furniture moving and me running about like a banshee until the issue is sorted.
I’m not just scared I’m bloody petrified.
So, to get me to Australia I’d have to wear something like a flamethrower, not particularly a very PC piece of equipment in a hot and dry environment where fire spreads so freely, however in a country where every animal and creature wants to kill you I see no other alternative.
Probably just easier that I stay away. Yes that’s it I’ll do just that. Problem solved.
Have a lovely day.
(Flame thrower pic courtesy of Misadventure Lab)
Foxes Den 