I say this with the utmost confidence.
I hate bees and they know it. One would figure that by 27 I would be over it. I’m not.
When I was in first grade, I used to pretend I was more allergic to bees than I was just so I could sit in the nurses room and eat lunch.
There are all of these flower gardens lining the sidewalk in my neighborhood, so when I walk down the street in the open, i just pray that the stupid things won’t see or smell me as I go by their favorite lavender bush. I have probably spazzed out a couple of times.
There was, from what I could deduce, a queen bee on the sink last week which was promptly killed by my almost 80 year old grandmother after she heard me shriek with horror. She said killing that thing was better than hearing me scream. No joke.
In high school, while running cross country in the wilderness, even after tripping over tree roots and falling down hills, my bee stings were much much worse. Wouldn’t you hate it too if your that small yellow and black striped deil made the back of your knee swell up like a grapefruit three consecutive times?
My mother is convinced that I have some sort of phobia. The way I scream when I even think a bee is encroaching on my territory is reminiscent of the sound one might make when being slit in the throat from behind.
So here it is, from some website that is supposedly pretty credible:
“Melissophobia is the fear of bees. People who have this fear may avoid the flowers, the woods or other places where bees can be found and they may not wear clothes that attract bees. Cases of this phobia have increases as the number of killer bees increase around the world. The origin of the word melisso is Greek (meaning honeybee) and phobia is Greek (meaning fear). Melissophobia is considered to be a specific phobia, which is discussed on the home page. Melissophobia is also known as Apiphobia and Apiophobia and related to Spheksophobia (fear of wasps).”