...my late sister-in-law was terrified of wooden spoons.....
I once had a big brand new house.
Field mice. cutest little thing. I would get the safe traps, and drive them away and release. Freaked me out hearing the little scraping feet inside there.
It got way out of hand after he left me. I would sit on the couch with a pillow to block the view of them. The last straw was when I woke up one morning with my dog nosing my water glass next to the bed. A mouse! in there. What if I woke up in the middle of the night for a sip! And how long was the poor thing swimming? I had told myself that there was no way they can get upstairs. yea right.
I had to get the de-con. And I felt terrible. That's another story too. Poor drunk poisened mices. ahhhhhhh... It bordered an Amish farm. When the horses went through to cut the corn down - little kids driving them... Came the mice! ahhhh!
*Turns out when their daughter moved and took her little dog, she left a big bag of dog food tucked into the closet under the stairs.
I knew someone who wouldn't touch a wooden spoon. Maybe these people suffer from xylophobia-- the fear of wooden objects. No club sandwiches ever for them and they'd always need forks in Chinese restaurants...
All the bowls on the spoons have to be facing left. All thee hangers have to be facing the same way in the closet. Could be worse?