I'm an only child. One of the perquisites of being an only child is that every once in a while, I got, umm, pampered. There's really no way to explain that without sounding deeply spoiled. So, I think, in the interest of time, I'll just admit to being deeply spoiled and we'll move on. When I was younger, I got to go to the spa about once every couple of years to enjoy a massage, facial and mani-pedi.
The spas almost universally offered a paraffin wax as well. Despite hearing that it was delightful, I always decided not to when I was younger. Something about telling a seven year old to dip her hands into hot, melted wax because "it will feel good", well, it didn't inspire confidence. Having not even gone through with the paraffin wax portion of the spa afternoons when I was younger, I realized that I still didn't know what it felt like because I'd never dipped my hands in hot wax.
So, in a bold, decisive act of silliness and curiosity, my mom and I destroyed a perfectly good dinner candle for absolutely no reason.
Sorry candle. You died in vain.
I won't lie. It actually took a little courage to dip my finger in, which I know is dumb. But its just something that scared me for a long time. I originally opted out of the paraffin wax at the spa because I thought it would hurt and that assumption stayed with me for years. So, when I finally did drop my finger into the wax, I felt so incredibly silly for being worried about it.
You got nothing, wax!
As soon as my little, irrational fear had been gotten over, I had a choice between immediately cleaning up the mess my mom and I had created or playing in wax like a five-year-old and making the biggest mess possible before leaving so my parents could clean it up after me. See, I'm 25 and in law school. I think we all know what I went with.
...I wonder what would happen if I dropped an ice cube in there...
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