I ate the BEST CLEMENTINE EVER this afternoon. I was inclined to think that my opinion was maybe a little influenced by just getting back from a run on a beautiful spring afternoon (so I was happy, feeling good, in need of water, and this juicy, perfectly sweet tiny orange fruit hit the spot), but then John (who hadn’t gone out yet and was NOT under the influence of endorphins) had a slice and agreed. Best ever. Sadly, that means every clementine I ever eat after this one will be a disappointment. Unless the box we bought this morning is a special magical box of clementines. Maybe someone picked out all the best ones and put them in the same box and we were the lucky shoppers (heh – just typed shoopers) who bought that box. I’m a little afraid to have another one and find out. I’m a coward. A citrus coward.