Mice. Sounds weird, because I’m not afraid of bugs, dogs, bad guys. But mickey sends into a fit. Oddly enough, chipmunks, snakes and squirrels don’t phase me at all. But Mice? Forget it. We’ve mouse proofed our house, so at least I’m safe there. But one time, one must have gotten in when the door was left open, and until I caught it, I was a basket case. Maybe if they made some noise when they ran, but since you can’t hear them, I flip when they scoot out from under the fridge. That’s my weak spot.
That, and I really can’t overcome my aversion to old people’s skin. I have no problem cleaning bathrooms, cleaning up after floods, changing kids diapers, washing greasy dishes, but the thought of handling old people really takes a lot (and I mean A LOT) of will power.
But when push comes to shove, I’ll bathe an elderly man, but lock me in a room where mice are running around? I’ll be climbing the walls.