The War of the Worms

I don’t know if I really do have actual scoleciphobia, but I’ll tell you all of this. As a little kid, I was, in fact, less scared of worms than my sisters, whom I chased around with the critters. I even once dug up a massive bunch of worms (about 50, if I remember) and placed them in a pile.
By the time I was eight or so, stuff began to change. I was encouraged to look at microscopic swimming roundworms under a microscope and jumped back in disgust. Stuff really started to squirm away on my tenth birthday when my mom said: “Happy ten years without getting ringworm!” I’m not even sure if ringworm actually is a kind of worm, but ever since then, I have avoided going out in heavy rain (I’m from southern California, so for eight months of the year, getting enough rain to bring the worms out of their burrows is pretty rare anyway). I seldom dig, especially not in moist soil. Seeing sandworms on the beach is an “Outta here” scenario for me. I used to get covered with worms in nightmares, and when earthworms and tapeworms come up in documentaries at school, I always shut my eyes. So this January, all my friends at my high school found out I was afraid of worms, and of course, I’ve been pestered with so much since then. Seeing just one worm in my backyard can be enough to make me want to head back inside, and I’m not a sedentary guy. We even joke that I could run a five-minute mile if I were being chased around with a worm, which is pretty funny, even to me.