This morning while we were waking up, Margaret asked me, “Agoraphobia — isn’t that ‘fear of open places’? What about ‘angoraphobia’?”
He: “You mean, ‘fear of fuzzy cats’? Or are you thinking of ‘Igoraphobia’?”
She: “ ‘Fear of hunchbacks’? Oh, dear; what about ‘angeraphobia’?”
He: “ ‘Fear of wrath‘?”
She: Or “ ‘Al-Gore-aphobia’?”
He: “ ‘Fear of being trapped in conversation by an earnest policy wonk’?”
She: “Oh, dear! Or what about ‘Elgaraphobia’?”
He: “Fear of ‘Pomp and Circumstance’?”
[And as I was typing this, it occurred to me to add, “auguraphobia,” “fear of hand tools.”]
Raisin said:
Ohhhhhh…no fair making me laugh this hard! I’m voiceless and full of plenteous gross and horrid coughing and am bidden to be QUIET and now I am laughing so hard at your post that I am in tears! But these are lovely tears….and a relief after nothing but chest and lung pain for nearly 3 weeks…fie!
Keep those posts coming. But perhaps a laugh alert is in order at times?
Peace!
Raisin
Tripp says
Ah…Yes, perhaps it was liturgaphobia finally setting in after all these years of earns’t exposure?
-Tripp