When Rachel and Miriam lived with us I would laugh, to
myself of course, at the silly things that scared them. They were afraid of any
animal or insect even if the insect was either dead or on the other side of a
window. They were afraid of the vacuum. They were afraid of loud noises. Of
course, they were afraid of the dark and of potential monsters.
Nancy recently
posted about taking the family to the museum and having poor Miriam afraid of
an open fish tank. If it didn't have a lid, then surely it would spill. The
great thing about most childhood fears is that we all eventually grow out of
them. But as this is a somewhat historical essay, I want to review those things
that frightened me when I was young and see which of those fears persisted.
I was never afraid of furry animals. I loved cats, dogs,
hamsters, and almost anything that could be considered a pet. However I was and
still am afraid of bunnies. Okay, not the fear that causes me to want to run
away should a bunny hop in my path. I fear petting a bunny or, worse yet, picking
one up. I am convinced it will scratch me with its hind legs or bite me with its
large, razor sharp teeth. To be honest, Monty
Python and the Holy Grail did not alleviate my fear of rabbits.
