What sort of marketing bullshit did you get taken in by at the grocery store today?
What are you going to come home with tomorrow, magic beans?
What exactly do you think makes an "easy to peel" clementine different from a "regular" clementine?
And to begin at the beginning, how long have you been secretly thinking every time you tried to enjoy a sweet piece of citrus fruit, "Dammit, this clementine is impossible to peel. If only there were clementines that I could peel with more ease, perhaps such a thing exists only in my dreams."
As far as I know, clementines are all the same in terms of peel-ease, and let's face it, I'm not sure how much easier they could be made to peel. They're not surrounded by barbed-wire or rows of tiny shark teeth. It's not like peeling a Clementine takes a lot of strength or endurance, nor are there any other difficult side effects, say like one might find when taking on the difficult task of peeling an onion.
In fact, I'd say marketing "easy to peel" clementines is pretty much just another step towards the final lazification of civilization, the slippery slope of which Ellen DeGeneres pointed out years ago:
"We're just so lazy. We used to have breath mints. Now we have breath strips that just dissolve on our tongue. Can we not suck anymore?"
So no, the world - and our family - does not need "easy to peel" clementines.
At least that's my take on it. Wendi Aarons of course would be the first in line to get some of these newfangled clementines, located in the produce aisle directly across from the gluten-free strawberries.
This is the thirtiest instruction in my ongoing series of Instructions for My Husband.
Have an instruction for your other half? Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org and be a guest instructor.
More of the same on Twitter, Facebook and Pinterest - don't miss it; join us!