Did I mention that my husband is a darling? Yet another package arrived for me today, this one from my favorite company in the universe, SpecialTeas. He sent me a couple of different types of tea, including Connor's personal favorite-- Jasmine Phoenix Pearls (no I don't let him drink it-- he likes the smell). My husband knows me very, very well. I would like to say that this is a stock photo, but sadly, it's not. At last count I had somewhere around fifty different types of tea and tisanes. This is well past a hobby and probably into an obsession. I have read books about tea. I have been to tea tastings. I can look at a tea called Dari Singbulli Special Finest Tippy Golden Flowery Orange Pekoe 2nd Flush Silver Tip and understand what that means- that's how bad I am. I can't even claim any of those teas are Jer's-- he drinks coffee, and he drinks it the way I drink tea-- seriously. The man hauls his grinder and espresso machine to work every Monday and hauls them back to the house on Friday, which is also when he roasts the beans for the next week in our kitchen with all the windows open. He usually sets all the fire alarms off anyway.
While Jer and I have a little love affair with our respective vices, Connor puts us both to shame. Connor is not addicted to coffee or tea. Connor is addicted to chocolate pudding, and while he is rather unpicky about its origin and preparation, he makes up for that in passion, eating and simultaneously bathing himself in it with a type of single-minded focus that any epicurean would recognize as true appreciation of food. 
You have to be careful of your fingers when you are feeding it to him. He has a tendency to lunge for the spoon. If he could tell you about it, he would probably scoff at the idea that pudding is just to be eaten. Pudding is to be experienced, and he does his very best to appreciate its every nuance, utilizing it in pieces of performance art that are stunning in their sophistication and complexity. Either that or he was involved in a vicious fight with some sort of custard monster. I'm pretty sure the poor monster lost.
You have to be careful of your fingers when you are feeding it to him. He has a tendency to lunge for the spoon. If he could tell you about it, he would probably scoff at the idea that pudding is just to be eaten. Pudding is to be experienced, and he does his very best to appreciate its every nuance, utilizing it in pieces of performance art that are stunning in their sophistication and complexity. Either that or he was involved in a vicious fight with some sort of custard monster. I'm pretty sure the poor monster lost.~Jess
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