Scoleciphobia – that is the term for a fear of worms.
I am scared of worms. Yes – I’m out and I’m proud. It sounds bizarre and a tad wimpy, but there you have it. It’s irrational – I know they can’t hurt you, but … just typing this makes shudders go up and down my spine and much head shaking and brrrrrrrrr’s being vocalized. I know they are good for the environment and all and I respect that. But don’t expect me to do any gardening.
How it started I don’t know. But I remember being horrified as a child when someone told me that holes in apples meant worms. From that moment I would not eat applies if they had holes in them. One day, however, my vigilence slipped. I remember it clearly. I was at a school athletics carnival – I was only in primary school. I was thirsty and hungry and my mother gave me an apple. I started to eat it. Wouldn’t you know it. Murphy’s Law. I take a bite, look down at my apple, and there is half a worm frenetically wriggling … sticking out of the place I just bit out of. 
Guess where the other half was?
(ahem reminds me of a dream I once had but that is too rude for here 
). I commented that sometimes I felt like a pair of walking breasts. Breasts on legs. I said I got tired of men wanting to talk to my breasts. A common complaint I am sure many males have heard many times before!
