This one can be filed under, “Yes You Too May Have a Label.”
“People might think it is a bit of a laughable affliction…but the actual sight of them fills me with dread and I could never touch them,” Vicki Larrieux, 22, a British student.
What, pray tell, terrorizes this young Brit? (Here’s the article.)
If you guessed assault rifles, a petri dish with Ebola cultures or hissing cockroaches you would be wrong.
Larrieux is terrified of vegetables and suffers from “lachanophobia” which dictionary.com defines as:
Well, there is no definition to be found there. Must be a pretty new phobia.
I did find a few spurious websites however that offers hope and help for this malady.
One site sells a “Home Study Program” ($135) or the VIP (“Very Important Vegetable”) package for One on One assistance from a Board certified Specialist (AKA “a gardener”) for only $2,497.
Living a life at peas (har) with vegetables is not cheap evidently. Fear is a very big industry!
I considered a few of my fears over the years:
- Middle aged men in Speedos
- That “special” talk in 5th grade
- The Kohls’ dressing room
- Breaking down on the highway and having an axe-murderer stop to assist Or—having that axe-murderer surprising me just as I’m sudsing up my hair in the shower.
- Breaking wind in a windowless room among friends
The world is indeed a very scary place.
I wonder what the therapy will be like for this woman. Will it be confrontational and cathartic whereby they strap her to a table and wave carrots and bean sprouts under her nose?
Will she be force to watch Veggie Tales videos repeatedly until she can smile and nod maniacally along with the lyrics to their theme song:
If you like to talk to tomatoes,
If a squash can make you smile,
If you like to waltz with potatoes,
Up and down the produce aisle…
I hope she comes to terms with her affliction.
One the other hand, perhaps the military should look to spreading this fear. Think of the possibilities! Instead of expensive weaponry in modern warfare, we can simply fling collard greens and brussel sprouts at one another. Police could be armed with garden produce, (“Put your hands where I can see them sir, I have a carrot.”) and unruly children would be a thing of the past (“Don’t make me use the green beans on you!”)
One can dream anyway.
I know for me, the older I get the more at peace I am with my issues and have learned to live a full and satisfying life in spite of them. For the most part anyway. Speedos still really frighten me.