I'm not scared of many things. In fact, I like the dark (I especially love driving at night) and love thunder/lightning. I dislike bugs and think they can be gross, but I'm typically fine killing them on my own if need be (unless it's a cockroach, in which case the demolition of it falls into the category of Things My Husband Must Be Willing To Do). I may get a teensy bit nervous when I have to speak in public, but never scared. Admittedly, I do have slight skunderphobia*, but what girl doesn't?
(*When I first started working, I had my training in Minneapolis along with about 35 other new hires in my division. We had to come up with lists of fears we had regarding entering the working world. One table came up with "skunderphobia" - a fear of one's skirt getting tucked into one's underwear after using the restroom without one noticing. This was a table of all girls.)
I've recently decided, however, that I have a fear of blenders. (Sadly, I was unable to determine a specific name for this illness, even after much googlage; surprising, considering there is even an official name for a fear of buttons: koumpounophobia.) Wait - let me amend that; I have a fear of having to clean blenders. Don’t get me wrong - it's not because of the sharp blade (I'm perfectly fine regularly using my uber-sharp Cutco knives, even after gashing my finger wide open while cutting an avocado) or anything similarly rational. It's mostly because it's heavy and unweildy to clean. I dislike having to lift it into the sink, tip it while cleaning so water doesn't accumulate, and, most of all, I don't like removing the blade and reattaching it when I'm done. Again, not because it's sharp, but because you have to screw it on really tightly (there's even a contraption that comes with it to help unscrew, but you can't use it to tighten), so it makes it really difficult to remove and replace. Good thing Dan is nice and cleans the blender in return for roasted butternut squash and onion tart, corn chowder, avocado shakes, and peach/mascarpone/gingersnap tart.