You know when you get those childhood flashbacks and for a second it’s just like you were 5 again and totally oblivious of dead-lines, midterms, pay checks and all those grown up headaches. All you care about is who makes better hot chocolate (mom or grandma?) and how late you can stay up tonight.
I get those moments from candles. In the winter time we’d always have candles on the kitchen table and eat breakfast and dinner with no other light (except the one over the sink so you could actually see to butter your toast) and I’ve loved candle light ever since. We’d even have a candle in the bathroom (only in the winter) and I’d light it, shower real warm and barely be able to see my feet.
I picked up a few scented candles from Wal-Mart the other day. I’m not denying being a big fan of a lot of the real American scents like Mulled Cider, Pecan Pie, Hot Apple Pie, Pumpkin Spice and I decided it’s finally fall enough to really crank those out.
But there’s nothing sentimental about the scented candles. To get the real spirit, I need the plain white long candles, burning the cat’s whiskers, the plants in the window, all the kids’ fingers and sometimes a little piece of the table cloth.
Now that’s childhood.
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