Ok, so my kids would be saying, "Ooh, Mom said hate." But, I think this aversion is as strong as that. I don't strongly dislike them, I hate them. Here is one of the many reasons why:
I have a "laundry chute." (Actually it is just the place where we throw the dirty clothes downstairs from the upper floors. But I like to think that I have a laundry chute, so don't go and burst my bubble, ok?)
I noticed that the laundry was pretty much taking over the entire house, so I thought I should do some laundry room shuttling. As I picked up some of the dirty towels, ants started to pour out of them. EEEEWW! Grody to the max! Gag me with a pitchfork! (OK-enough with the valley girl impersonations)
Did I mention that I hate ants?
I figured out why, too. Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, I had a pretty idyllic childhood. Fabulous weather, great culture, and NO LARGE BUGS! Or thunderstorms, but that is a different rant. Since moving to different parts of our great nation, I have heard stories of terrifying bugs of gargantuan sizes (mostly from Alexis--Texas and the Hawaii clan of the Johnsons). Yet, I had none of that in my experience. So ants are the epitome of disgusting-ness and yucky-bug-ness. I know I am a bug rookie, but its all I got!
Oh, and I hate ants.