To Poo or not to Poo, that is the question
I’ve been in a lot of bathrooms…..and I mean a lot. If I had to estimate, I would have to say about 4 different bathrooms. Don’t be alarmed, they’ve all been in the same “House” so to speak. I’m just your typical everyday candle. Yes, a candle. I’m not the fancy nice smelling kind you might assume I’d be, no. I’m the candle that dad got when he was mad at mom and wanted to prove a point in some sort of fashion, and ended up losing, shocker. My name is Glade Waxman and I am a salt and vinegar smelling candle. Lays potato chips needs to stop partnering with companies it shouldn’t. My adventures have been to the Master bathroom, the children’s bathroom, the guest bathroom aka the basement bathroom, and the temporary port-a-potty that was outside the house during renovations. SELF- renovations. The fearless Williams family is way too good for the property brothers, Mrs. Williams claims she is far superior compared to them. Yeah, right. My life has had its up and downs just like anyone else’s but I wasn’t prepared for the day that I call, black Monday. Everyone makes mistakes but when the Williams repeatedly decide to leave me lit throughout the week, that’s on purpose. I guess I shouldn’t say everyone makes this mistake, it’s really just the children. They want a new house. I can’t say that I disagree with the two rapscallions, but there are other ways. Black Monday was the day that things got real. It’s become part of the children’s routine to leave me lit before they go to school and that’s what they did. Unbeknownst to them, both their parents had to go into work so they weren’t able to blow it my flame when they finish their “business” right before lunchtime. This particular Monday was the day that I had no control over myself. My flame was lit so when Mr.Whiskers, the family cat, comes in and plays hockey with me, this time the shower curtain caught on fire. Poor Mr.Whiskers had no idea what he was doing due to his sight impediment and perished when his little feline brain became curious. That moment will be indelibly stamped upon my mind for eternity. I feel like i aged. A solid three inches, I’ll never get those inches back. As Mr.Whiskers perishes in the flames, a loud beeping blares all throughout the house. The end was near, I was certain. Next thing I know, a tall yellow blob with swimming gear comes running in to the bathroom and completely douses me in water, along with the shower curtain and the corpse of Mr.Whiskers. Turns out the blob was a firefighter that contrary to my belief, was anything BUT attractive. When Mrs.Williams comes home, running into the house like a mad woman, I knew at that moment, MY end was quite near. I wasn’t in the best shape after the ordeal, to be honest. My plastic sides were melted an I no longer had a stem with which to light and my wax was now in an odd shape because of the stupid flames getting all up in my business. The let down of a firefighter informs Mrs.Williams of the cause f the fire and next thing I know, I feel myself being lifted up and then nothing but darkness as I descend into the dumpster outside. I’ll never forget the time that the Williams’ came home from LARPing and I almost thought that Mr.Williams was constipated, turns out he was just having a hard time taking off his costume and began debating whether or not to actually use the restroom. Then there was the time that I got moved to the guest bathroom also know as the basement bathroom, where everyone goes to do their “dirty work” in private, since that never actually have guests over. Lastly I remember the time that I was moved from the master bathroom and the time I was in a port-a-potty. Mrs.Williams was not impressed by my purchase and forced Mr.Williams to move me somewhere else, or he would be on the couch indefinitely. Lastly, when Mr.Williams wanted to add a little class and a little humor to a bad and stressful situation, the presence of the port-a-potty during renovations. My life has been led to the fullest and I can honestly say, my demise is the fault of the cat who will absolutely not Rest In Peace because he died in desperation, the kind you can only get for waiting to use the toilet until the kids get off to school and you’re all alone to use the toilet without judgement. The cat had class but I’m glad he’s dead, though his death will haunt me forever.