My darling Clementine

I have a somewhat compulsive personality. For example when I like a song, I play it into the ground until everyone including me is sick of it. When I see a movie I like, I see it several times, looking for nuances, lines and performances I didn't notice the first several times. When I'm at the craps tables in Vegas, I'll roll the bones until I've gone all the way through the college fund.

Just kidding. What college fund?

And does anyone need to be reminded of my four-starting-on-five binges of Breaking Bad? Anyone? So it should come as no surprise that when I was introduced to clementine oranges - and liked them - that I would eat them six and eight at a time.

Besides, what's not to like. This small, tasty hybrid of a mandarin and sweet orange is seedless, easy to peel and just sweet enough. Not unlike my high school girlfriend (that joke is also something I'll use until you can't stand it anymore).

They're best when refrigerated, although they don't have to be. And you can eat them almost anywhere. They're juicy, but not in that spill-all-over-the-place naval orange kind of way.

At the market, they're usually sold in netted bags or small boxes called Cuties or Halos. I wouldn't care if they were called Cha Cha's or NumNums. They're awesome.

Occasionally I wonder how long it'll take me to tire of them, and what semi-healthy snack I'll move on to and obsess over next.

But not before I check to see if there are any more of these left.