My sister is fearless.

She will hop on a plane to go anywhere, she drives hours just to take on the scariest haunted houses in the state and her most recent hobby involves guns.

I envy her fearlessness.

To be eight years older, I have never been as brave as my baby sister.

I have never flown, but flying is not necessarily a fear.

Why? Well, mainly because I know I am not about to get on a plane.

Nothing to fear if you know you aren't going to do it.

My biggest, greatest fears are more imminent than flying and far more real.

My greatest fears involve clowns, dolls and canned biscuits.

Clowns have always freaked me out. I think watching Stephen King's "It" as a teenager had a lot to do with it, but there was always an underlying sense of sadness and creepy behind that clown makeup.

Mimes were added to this category after I had one follow and mock me as I tried to stroll down River Street in Savannah.

I did discover, however, that a well thrown mime punch can usually get them to leave you alone.

Dolls have always scared me, especially those with the eyes that would roll around and look real. Even as a little girl, I refused to play with them and if someone gave me one as a present, I had to cover their eyes when I went to sleep, usually with a spare pillow case, which made my dresser look like it had a row of dolls lined up for execution.

Mama has only one photo of me holding a baby doll and she said seconds after it was taken, I was trying to gouge the doll's eyes out. I can't even get into how badly a Betsy Wetsy doll disturbed me.

Why anyone thought a doll that needed its diaper changed was a good idea was beyond me.

My fear of canned biscuits is probably the worst.

Growing up, I heard Granny sneer that someone's biscuits tasted ‘canned,' leading me to the knowledge that if they were canned, then there had to be something wrong with them.

When I discovered I had food allergies a few years ago and really shouldn't even touch dough, I had no choice but to start using canned biscuits if my family wanted one. Something about trying to peel that paper off the can, whacking the can against the edge of the counter to only have it pop like a gun shot at 6 a.m. can be enough to strike a nerve in my soul. That and the pasty white dough squeezing out of the can is reminiscent of my thighs when I take off control-top panty hose.

It's been said that the best way to overcome our fears is to face them; that once we do, we see that they really had no power after all.

I can face my fears, and have on plenty of occasions.

I am just still scared - and smart - enough to run the other way.

Sudie Crouch is an award-winning humor columnist and certified life coach. She lives in the north Georgia mountains with her family and four insane, but fairly well behaved dogs.