We celebrated New Year’s Eve glazed over the Champs-Elysées celebrations on T.V. (and some impressive performances on the France 3 channel, Can-Can dancers and all), and I enjoyed a fresh clementine. Callaghan is not a fan of citrus fruit, so I talked a little bit about the clementine as he watched me peel it.
“See how this clementine’s skin is thin, and it’s tightly wrapped around the fruit?” I asked. He was watching me with keen interest.
“The next time you eat a clementine, give it to me. I will prepare it for you,” he said gravely.
“Okay. You’re so wonderful!”
“Because I want to do something to your clementine.”
I couldn’t resist snatching up my laptop so I could tap out what he’d said. My memory is a joke, plus I was laughing, so there was a good chance I might have forgotten it.
So we had a great New Year’s celebration.
Happy New Year, Everyone! Bonne Année 2013!
EDITED TO ADD: Callaghan just peeled a clementine for me, carefully, with a knife – and he made a matching set of clementine candles for me. So that was what he meant!