I'm a cautious person by nature, so I like to think that I stray away from places that have things that would scare me, such as haunted houses, dark alleys, and even roller coasters. So, when asked if I've ever jumped out of my skin, I am quite certain the answer is…"I'm not sure." There have been times when (very mean) people have come up behind me and scared me, or hidden around the corner to jump out and scare me, but I'm not sure if that qualifies as "jumping out of my skin."
I guess what comes to my mind is when we were little, my two older brothers apparently were extremely overjoyed by scaring me. I remember they used to take the cicada "shells" that were on the fence or tree and throw them at me, simply because I would scream at the top of my lungs.
Those things are harmless, but look at how utterly disgusting they are!
And then, I remember a time when those mean brothers of mine took a grasshopper or a cricket or something yucky like that and put it in my bed. They timed it perfectly so when I laid my head down, it jumped and of course, I screamed.
What is it with boys? Now that the memories are floating back, I recall being pregnant with Baby D at the children's home, some of the boys found a scorpion (I loathe scorpions!), and were throwing it at each other. I tried to remain calm, but they probably sensed my fear and one of the boys flung it in my direction. Yup, pretty sure I screamed like a little girl then, too.
So, sadly, I suppose the times when I have "jumped out of my skin" most often were times when cicada skins or dead scorpions were being flung at me, or grasshoppers were left in my bed. Yuck.
p.s. I do dearly love these "mean brothers" of mine now! (Even though I wouldn't put it past them to throw more gross bug skins at me….)