Stinging things are bad.
I'm not afraid of many things. There are things I worry about, but I'm not afraid of many things. In fact, there are quite a few things I'm decidedly not afraid of. Spiders, okay. Snakes, cool. Clowns, provided they aren't the kind wielding a deadly weapon, are also all right.
However, when I get up in the morning and there's a hornet flying around the living room... nfsdopi A&(S_ df7 S(*DF 09S D& f9s* U DF)(SD&F)(SDfsd 9p8f7ds9* S&FFS(*S)PF()S8ds 90f 7ds(*&F ()SD*fs!!
Being the kind of person who likes to take care of things like that right away, I got the heaviest notebook I could find in my room (after firmly slamming the door behind me so the evil demon thing couldn't follow me into my zen oasis... I do have a miniature tree in my room) and went back outside to the living room, only to find that the stupid hornet had moved to the sliding door by the balcony. Right. If I were going to open the door to the balcony, that would involve me getting far too close to the hornet, but I did anyway. It was on the screen, so I opened the screen and slammed the glass door, so it had nowhere to go but out. Smart, self. Very good.
His Evilness didn't move! I was all, "You're free! Go! You have been given a second chance at life, little friend!" and it still wouldn't move. Rage! I had to open the screen door all the way and brush it outside with the big heavy notebook. This was the most terrifying thing I did all day.
I can't believe I survived.
I really hate things that fly and buzz and sting and especially things that have the hangly dangly legs. Oh, hangly dangly legs. It's not like I've never been stung before, I've been stung like, two dozen times and I don't even think it hurts all that much. I HAVE A PROBLEM. For some reason, the hangly dangly things make them all the more terrifying. If there's one in the classroom where I'm supposed to be learning, forget it. I'll just watch it the entire class, making sure I always know where it is so I'm not unpleasantly surprised by evil dropping down the back of my shirt.
I played tennis in high school, and I think the courts where we played were poured on some kind of hideous ancient wasp breeding ground, perhaps some sacred place where thousands of stinging insects were wronged and now haunt it and encourage their descendants in horrible deeds of vengeance against the human race. I earned myself the title of Bee Slayer because I perfected the skill of killing bees and wasps and the hangly-danglylike with my racquet. I was good.
I think they're out for my blood.
Now, if hornets and wasps and stuff were huge, say, the size of cars, their scary factor would cease to be so paralyzing because you could see them coming from miles away and their stealth sneaking in under the door skillz would no longer be on their side.
However, I guess if you got stung you'd definitely die, and it'd probably hurt a lot more.
You get your ups and downs either way, I guess.