I Ever Tell You How I Got This Tiny Scar?
If you’ve seen my face at any point since 10 this morning, get off my lawn you pervert. But since you’re probably curious, yes, that is a fresh red mark on the upper point of my left cheek. It’s a burn. And the story of how I got it involves wax, wind, fire, and water. And poop, but barely.
Never let it be said that my poop don’t stink. As a considerate pooper, I keep a candle and box of matches in each bathroom. This morning, I had to use it.
I probably should have thrown this candle away by now. The wick long ago burnt out, so I just lay a lit match in the wax and left it. Sometimes the match burnt out quickly. Sometimes it caught fire and acted as a pseudo wick.
This time, it acted as a pseudo wick. Along with every unburnt match in the wax. Soon I had a cup of fireball in my bathroom, feeding off what ended up being enough wax to sustain it for a while.
I tried to blow out the flame. It laughed at me. So I took a deep breath, sucking up a lungful of perfumed smoke. Not great for my lingering bronchitis. I took a deep breath, angled away from the candle, blew, quickly turned away from the candle for another deep breath, then blew again.
I felt like I was on the defensive in a boxing match against the candle, sticking and moving but not landing any effective blows.
I didn’t want to leave it to burn out, because the glass might shatter and the fire spread.
I didn’t know if I could touch it to get it someplace safe without burning myself. Especially with exploding glass still a possibility.
I needed to throw an uppercut.
The fire went out.
The pool of wet, hot wax splashed out of the glass and sprayed me in the face.
Luckily this bathroom had a shower in it. I got right in and sprayed my face with cool water. Not cold, I’m not a sadist. But cold enough to cool the wave and soothe my face.
I picked off a couple of chunks. Part of me thinks I still have a piece stuck to my eyelid, but mirrors disagree. Not sure if it’s a small burn or a phantom pain.
Otherwise, I’m fine. Just another “Only you” moment I get to add to the list. The long, long list.