So…You’d Like To Invite The Stiletto Family Over For Drinks?

If there is one thing I know about my daughter it is this…she wants to be JUST LIKE ME. I don’t know why exactly but she is well on her way. Likes to change outfits 20 times a day? Check. Need for constant attention? Roger that. Intense love of shoes? A pair of new flip flops can bring her to tears. Deep fascination with all things pretty and sparkly and anything that smells good? We have that in spades. Add in here a beautiful candle at a friends house and one very curious little girl and you’ve got yourself the making of a story.

This weekend we were at my friend Gretchen’s house having a lovely time. I had gone to the restroom earlier and noticed she had a beautiful candle burning…cranberry and orange…so pretty and it smelled fantastic. I should have known that my admiration for that candle could only mean one thing….property destruction shortly thereafter.

Normally, a candle would not cause me to think such a thing. But given that Miss G has managed to morph almost completely into me in the past year or so (minus about one foot and 10 bra sizes) I should have known that she would find the exact same candle irresistable.

This is was the candle:

This is what the candle looks like when a small girl picks it up to sniff and admire it, finds it full of…yes…hot burning wax and drops it on WHITE TRAVERTINE FLOORS.

It’s all over the wall too if you look closely enough. Also, the other wall is covered. And the mirror. And a little on the toilet seat. AND A LOT UNDER THE TOILET SEAT. ..and I think also on the ceiling but to be honest at that point I was busy working out a very difficult physics equation on how one small person could throw that much wax in so many directions.

And apparently, this is what my daughter looked like when she emerged from the bathroom:

After being frantically called back into the house because at first it really looked like she had blood all over her (and based on the level of the shriek I’m fairly sure Gretchen was about to faint) I went to survey the damage in the bathroom. I’m no stranger to this particular game…property destruction is Miss G’s middle name. (sometime we can talk about nail polish and how it can make beautiful wall murals in not only your home…but the very nice homes of your friends as well…) Took one look and immediately asked Gretchen if we could just go ahead and buy her a new house because we had obviously broken this one.

After picking eleventymillion pieces of red wax out of my daughters hair and off her skin, The Man and I set about fixing the house so as not to have to buy an entirely new one (or at least a bath remodel). I spent :30 minutes on my hands and knees with a paint scraper prying the wax off the floor. Here’s the thing you should know about red wax (because I know all of you are very curious about the subject) IT SPREADS. As in, the minute you pick one scoop up some of it drops off and causes another mess. The Man came in next and after :45 minutes in a small bath with Goo Gone and a few rags, I’m fairly sure he may need to be checked into rehab from the fumes. Both of us now covered in bits of red wax and smelling like an odd combination of Cranberry and Goo Gone, the mess was finally clean and we vowed to lock Miss G in a closet the next time we let her out of the house.

So tell me, would you like to host us at your home soon for a get together? I promise you, it won’t be a dull evening.