Oh, I do...


I'm another one who shouldn't have opened this thread. Words can't describe my phobia of the s-word...I can't even say it. It's really ridiculous actually and evidently passed down through generations on my mom's side. We're a funny bunch when they are mentioned. It's not pretty. It's pretty common knowledge how scared I am of them. I actually remember my cousins coming over, when I was a teenager, with a tiny garden snake in a styrofoam cup. They chased me into my room. We lived in one of those big, old Victorian houses and all the bedroom doors were double french doors with the old-fashioned keyholes and big gaps between the bottom of the doors and flooring. I was so sure they were going to stick that *thing* under the doors.
I spent the rest of the evening standing on a chair in my room, staring at the bottom of the doors in terror.
I can't believe I just admitted that...I will be asking for a room upstairs on our next trip.