You Love Playing With Wax

Sry. 

THINK ABOUT IT. You love it.

There's a candle burning. It's Thanksgiving (maybe Christmas? You do you. The only pre-req is the candle presence). There's a pool of hot red cinnamon wax (maybe pine? Again, you, do, you.) pooling right under your nose. You're tempted to touch it. You don't quite yet. It's early and you don't want to ruin the candle. (YET). C'mon, be polite. Wait until dinner.

Some minutes tick by, and the pool of wax is growing. You dip a finger in. It's great. YOU LOVE IT. You're committed at this point. This candle must be ruined.

*Flashback*

Each year we have a Boxing Day party at mi casa. (Boxing day is the day after Christmas. Yeah, I think my parents made this up, too, but whatever.) Regardless, this holiday exists in the Shannon household so, deal.

So I'm at the party, maybe 4th grade? 5th? Doesn't matter to the story at all, but I'm sure my mom would be correcting me/ruining this story if she were over my shoulder. #jab

ANYWAYS. I'm going HAM on this huge red candle with my girl @Emgal. We are elbow deep in this cinnamon goodness essentially making arm casts of wax. Now, it should be noted that this candle is large, and, in, charge. Think 3 wicks.

Fast forward 30 minutes and this nice Crate and Barrel candle is DESTROYED. My mom was definitely mad at me but YOLO. Tell me you don't have a similar story.

.. Ya okay, Pinocchio.

*Flash forward*

And it's Christmas 2012. Still happening, still an issue.

(It should be noted that because of the incident that occurred Christmas 2012, our lovely Christmas dinner host Mama Hamilton put out chestnuts instead of wax. EQUALLY fun to destroy, and an easier cleanup, I'm told. Touché, Carol. I was pleased.)