Not necessarily in that order. In fact, I spend a significant amount of time thinking about what the order would be. I believe it's important to have a firm grasp of the priority of your fears should an emergency situation arise.
For instance, I think about what would happen if a tornado was catapulting itself toward my house and the only way I could escape would be to retreat to a cellar full of pythons or be lifted to the top of a tall building by my ankles.
The thought of any of those options is so terrifying that I can't even think about it for more than a few seconds before I choose the option that allows me to shoot myself in the face. I know it's irrational but I would honest to god almost rather die than touch a snake, ride a Ferris wheel or see a tornado.
Ellie had a little friend over this morning so I was doing some last minute cleaning when I noticed a stick on the ground.
Then the stick looked at me.
I screamed and ran into the playroom where Ellie was sitting on the floor watching Sesame Street. I know that if she sees me afraid of something then my phobias will be passed along to her so I tried my best to play it cool as I peeked around the corner.
Upon closer inspection I realized it wasn't a snake, it was just an earthworm the size of Bigfoot's dick.
Worms aren't quite as bad as snakes because they're not as manipulative and conniving but they're a close cousin which is too close for me. My instinct was to pack up the kids and leave the house. Forever.
But we had guests coming and I knew I was going to have to put on my big girl pants and turn this mother out.
I went to the backyard and got a branch and when I came back in the worm was looking at me again. When we made eye contact I couldn't help but drop the stick, scream bloody murder and run back into the playroom where Ellie was now curiously watching me.
I took a deep breath and walked back to the beast. I carefully approached it with the stick and the minute I poked it the worm got all wiggly and feisty and curly and I screamed bloody murder again and sprinted back into the playroom.
I was so frustrated with myself because I knew Ellie was carefully internalizing my actions and I was screwing her up by the second.
I tiptoed around it and quickly opened the door. With a deep breath I used the stick as a golf club and hurled the thing out into the yard. I think it hit a bush but I didn't stick around to see because I ran away screaming at the top of my lungs waving my hands above my head doing the heeby jeeby dance around the kitchen.
Ellie just stood there with her little nose pressed up against the glass, waving with both hands saying "bye bye worm."
I tried to make it right by showing her some pictures of worms online but I had to turn away my head for fear of going into convulsions.
I have had the creepy crawlies all day and I keep looking over both shoulders for fear of worm mafia coming back for their revenge.
I may need therapy.