I have a love/hate relationship with what is comonly known as the 'sparkler'. This past weekend was my husband's 27th birthday, and at some point I was in WalMart with the intent to purchase birthday candles. Of course, after finding out where the 'birthday section' was in this two-level madhouse filled with screaming babies I saw they were sold out, and I was forced to purchase said sparklers as well as the '2' and '7' number candles.
The time finally came for us to present my made-from-scratch chocolate cake. I envisioned these amazing miniture fireworks for all to behold as I entered and all to join in a joyful chorus of Happy Birthday. However, my friend and I made the mistake of lighting the sparklers one by one (a friend later gave the tip of bunching them together and lighting them all at once...genius), and one by one they burnt out. We panicked and rushed the cake over to him, hurrying everyone to sing before the last one faded in to an ash stick like the rest. (Please see photo of my husband blowing out the '2' and '7' surrounded by crispy, charred sparklers and one left untouched in the rush.)
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