Oh my darling

Clementine.

Clementine cuties are a holiday tradition in our house.

On our second date (8 years ago!!), Mitch and I met in Barcelona for Christmas. Long story. Here’s the short version. He was living in Swaziland. I was living in Atlanta. Barcelona was the cheapest option. And life is good when Barcelona is the cheapest option.

We ate a lot of clementine cuties. We would go to the open market and buy bread, cheese, and clementines. Later–when I was on the phone saying Merry Christmas to my family or something–he would disappear and I would always find him at the Pita Inn eating falafel pitas on the sly. So I learned a lot about Mitch that week. And he learned a lot about me. Specifically, he learned that I am an orange snob. I really do not like oranges. They are so much work as far as fruits go and they are just so pulpy. Yuck. That’s probably why I could never play soccer. Anyway, I DO like clementines. That are easy to peel and taste so sweet and they are practically pulp free. Plus Mitch would peel them for me since it was our second date and all. Now he makes me peel my own. That’s what 8 years will do, I guess.

So I knew that Mitch could put these guys away.

But I just learned this week is that Baby Cupcake is a clementine cutie fiend! Here’s the real question: How many of these should a 17-month old be eating? Day one it was THREE! Day two it was FOUR! We can’t keep this up.

Here’s to old traditions…and new traditions…

We just took a family trip to the town’s pawn shop. We got Mitch a guitar for Christmas! Soon he’ll sound good playing it, and for now I’ll say he looks good playing it.