How To Kill A Lobster

While out shopping yesterday we saw that seafood was on sale. Having never eaten lobster, we decided to get one. (At least I'd never had it; from some stories I've heard I think My Man has indeed eaten lobster but doesn't remember.) We chose the one we wanted, had him weighed, and brought him home where we put him in the sink. The Boogie was enthralled.


You know how when you go to the seafood department of your grocery store and see lobsters swimming around in a tank of water? Apparently they don't do that in your sink. If you put them in water in your sink they suffocate. That is to say ... they drown. Lobsters drown. Bet you didn't know that, did you? Neither did we. We learned it the hard way. When we realized that we'd efficiently though unintentionally murdered our lobster we quickly cooked and ate him. He tasted okay. I have to say I much prefer crab. But I can say I've eaten lobster now!

When HE was here the other day I found her like this. I laughed. I asked her, "Are you stuck?"
"Yes," she answered quietly. No fussing. No screaming. No drama. Not like her cousin, the Boogie.
"Okay," I said, "just a minute, let me get the camera." She was very patient. I really don't know how she managed to get in there without tipping the whole thing over! She was wedged in there pretty good, too. I had to sort of pry her out.

The Boogie has discovered how to use the camera. She is happy for a very long time snapping away. Last night she took over 150 pictures. They were mostly multiples of these:







My favorites are the self-portraits and the feet pictures. She took dozens of her daddy and me: "Say cheese, honey! Say cheese!"