Last week I told you how Delilah ate the Play-Doh. That very same day, I discovered the wax.
The wax that belongs in my Scentsy warmer.
So, I went to change the wax in the warmer last week and discovered this.
“Where is all the wax?” I asked. Then I saw it all over the shelf.
“What happened to the wax?”
I looked down at the D-Dog and her look said, “Don’t ask me, must have been that I Don’t Know kid.”
“Did you eat the fucking wax?” I asked her.
“Not me” said her look and then she went over and plopped herself down on her bed.
I followed her over and asked her again, “Did you eat the wax?”
No response, just that long sad face that said, “You always think the worst of me, don’t you?”
I grabbed a new block of wax, walked back over to her and held it out, “You want to eat this one too?”
She took a sniff and turned her nose up. “Not gonna happen.”
I moved the warmer to the mantle, put a new block of wax in and took Sampson for a walk.
Why didn’t I notice the pomegranate smell on her breath, I wondered.
Later as I was writing the Play-Doh post, I was telling Hubby the story, and the truth came out. It wasn’t actually the D-Dog that did it. It was the Hubby. He was looking for something the night before and accidentally knocked the warmer and the wax splashed out. He cleaned up what he could and was waiting until he came home the next day, to finish cleaning it up.
Sometimes, it’s not the dog.
You’re always quick to think the worst of me, but not as quick with the apologies.
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