So… I would just like to repeat what I said after the bathroom fire of 2002 AND the oven-mitts fire of 2014… IT WAS NOT MY FRACKING FAULT!!!!
Seriously this time, I really mean it!!
The candle was defective!!!!
And instead of burning out when it came to the end of the wick, LIKE A NORMAL CANDLE!! It kept burning like some demonic possessed candle causing the bottom of the damn candle jar to get SO hot it cracked.
AND THEN, continuing with its devil blessed flame, it slid out of the cracked jar and settled on top of my new kitchen table.. my new wood topped kitchen table… and kept BURNING ITS SATAN KISSED FLAME!!
Luckily I heard the bottle crack from the bedroom and thinking CIA Cat was attempting to break her last record of 3 glasses being nocked off the kitchen counter, I went into the kitchen to investigate and saw the inferno blaze! … okay maybe wasn’t that big but still…
So I quickly blessed a glass of tap water and tossed it on the devil fire extinguishing it’s evilness… but not before it left a circle of scorched kitchen table 😦
Me: Fracking, Frackity, Frackup, FRACK!
And like the man is tied to some cosmic alarm that lets him know when I’ve caught something, or someone on fire, Hubby, who was away at a business thing 2 states away, texted me.
Hubby: What’s up
Me: Why does something have to be up!?!?!
Hubby: … what did you do?
Me: WHY DID I HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!?!?
Hubby:… What’s on fire?
Me: IT WASN’T MY FAULT!!!!
and here’s the text conversation that followed, and may I say ended in a BRILLIANT TWSS moment…. and yes Hubby also goes by Tony…
But That's For Another Blog 
I was going to make a Ring of Fire reference, but of course you caught it first.
I like that it’s ok since you weren’t on fire this time. 🙂
This is hysterical (and yes, I’m sorry for your destroyed table)! Sadly, it’s a scenario and ensuing-husband-response that occurs in my home often. I’ve set fire to the bathroom (via candle), requiring a remodel which the bathroom needed, I might add; I’ve set oven mitts, trays of almonds that I was “just toasting” on fire (three times in one night – I had to try to keep getting them right for a recipe), and after that, I lose track. I can however can remember the exact the number of times I’ve cut myself (53), include nearly losing finger/thumb tips and once slicing deeply into the soft part between the thumb and forefinger (it was a natural continuation of removing the top of a pumpkin). My husband actually takes knives away from me in rapid motion, as soon as he sees me pick one up. Suffice to say, we’re kindred spirits, here. Tell your husband the candle was possessed. Shoot, tell him you’re possessed.
Oh my gosh I have so much to learn from you!!
Lesson are free of charge. I tend to do my best work around holidays. Let me know when you want to get started!