Not being Mary, and Clementine Bourbon Mulled Wine.

Let’s be honest. In the school nativity play, the role, The Role, really, is Mary.
She might not get a lot of lines, but she gets all the glory for sure. Glory, and a pale blue robe.

Words cannot describe the ferocity of my 7-year-old feelings towards being Mary. I’d practice Being Meek in the privacy of my bedroom, wrapped in a blue table-cloth, clutching my Cabbage Patch doll who stood in in a pinch for the blessed baby Jesus. I was so Meek, I decided. So Meek. And also Mild. Totally mild. I was the very damn definition of Saintly.

And then the big day. “And the role of Mary goes to Katherine …” Yes! Yes! Yes! “Katherine Green.” Say Whaaat?! Katherine Green? Katherine Green, who smelled faintly of sour milk, and wore hair combs. Hair combs! Are hair combs Biblical? I don’t think so. I fumed and fretted. Inconsolable.

I was to play the chime bar in Little Drummer Boy. “Come they told me, Pa Rupa Pum Pum.” TING.

Seriously. That was it. “A newborn King to see Pa Rupa Pum Pum.” TING.

When life saps your Festive spirit to this terrible and tragic extent, this is the punch you need in your kitchen and in your life.

Clementine Bourbon Mulled Wine.

Holiday spirit in a glass.

Poke the cloves into the clementines. Put everything into a pan, and heat gently, stirring until the sugar is dissolved. Once the mixture is almost, but not quite simmering, serve.