If only it had been as beautiful as this picture.
For one thing, ear candling isn't typically a "spa" type experience for me. My first encounter with it was back in the late 90's. My mom, sister and I had heard of ear candling and thought we would try it for ourselves. We decided to party like it was 1999 and ended up burning a hole in mom's brand new comforter. We did the procedure on each other, anxiously cut open the candle and shrieked, hooted and hollered over the disgusting amount of wax inside each candle. We didn't know then, that the wax was simply beeswax from the candles. Good times.
Fast forward a decade later. Our three boys are out of the house for the night. My husband and I haven't been alone or on a date in six weeks. We've got the house to ourselves for 12 solid hours. After watching an old episode of CSI New York, I announce at 9:30 that it's time for bed. And that I'll be needing some help with some ear candles.
"Why can't you just do it on your own?"
"It says right here on the box, "Never cone alone!"
"Oh my gosh. First, you're tired and want to go to bed at 9:30, then you want me to jam a candle in your ear and light it. Wow."
"I have to do this!"
I was trying to avoid having the doctor do it.
I got all the supplies; a lighter, the candles, a small paper plate and a slightly damp paper towel. And so it began.
The candle was hard to light. Once it did, the flame shot up, sometimes leaping over 6 inches high. My inner ear felt like it was on fire. My brave husband battled the flame, trying to keep my long hair from catching on fire. Neither one of us knew what was happening, but as the flame kept growing, we had to end prematurely. The slightly damp paper towel was no match for the now flaming torch. Finally, the flame ground out on the tiny paper plate.
I decided to forego the other ear realizing that is exactly how two highly educated people burn their house down.
The kids are gone again tonight.
It's just my husband and me.
Whatever will we do?
Nothing involving those type of candles!