My phobia? Flying monkeys

I've known a lot of people with a lot of odd phobias. I have a friend who is so afraid of birds that, when one got in her house, she took the children and left, and made her husband come home and get the bird out before she would return. It was a sparrow. In the basement. Behind a closed door.

I love birds and critters of all kinds. I talk to squirrels and chipmunks. A mouse got into the office where I used to work, and I tried to feed him crackers. I was raised in the Everglades, so I can handle snakes, spiders and all sorts of crawly things. I'm not fond of wasps, but that's just common sense more than a phobia.

Only one creature on earth gives me the serious creepies: Monkeys. I cannot stand to look at monkeys.

I blame this odd phobia on the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz. When I was little, I used to hide behind the sofa when the movie was on. Mom always thought I was afraid of the Wicked Witch. Oh, no. It was the monkeys.

Have you seen the movie recently? They are so sinister and eerie and creepy. They can swoop down and carry you off with their nasty little monkey hands and feet. They're like evil little people, only they're monkeys. With wings. In hats. Man.

I watched the movie last year, called my mom up and said, "No, Ma, those are really flying monkeys. Those things are real. That's not a costume. Look at them. They are so freaking me out here." She's probably still laughing.

Luckily, monkey phobia is a little easier to live with than bird phobia. I don't have much exposure to any monkeys, much less flying monkeys, in Southwestern Ohio. I know a lot of people think they're cute, have them as pets, dress them up in little outfits. Trust me, they are evil. Didn't we learn that from "Planet of the Apes"?

I have to go take a shower now. Ick.