Alternate title- The Irony of it All
I call them Christmas Oranges, the little easy-to-peel oranges that are in the stores in December. The smell when you first dig into the peel is Christmas to me. When I was a child they would come in a box individually wrapped in paper. I love them, I hate peeling regular oranges and usually only eat grapefruit, but I love the little Christmas oranges.
My boys love them too, or at least they love the first box of oranges. The first box lasted three days. They scarfed them down 4-5 oranges a day. They begged me to buy some more, so I did. Those oranges have been sitting on the counter moulding and turning hard at the same time. They won't touch them. The other day I asked Marcus to bring up a can of fruit for dinner from the garage. I expected peaches or pears. What does he bring up? A can of Mandarin oranges. When I asked the boys what was wrong with this picture, they all looked at me slack-jawed.
I guess I better start eating Christmas oranges.