It’s been a crazy week so let’s end it on a crazy note, k?
So, have you ever killed something and ate it?
(Wow. What a rhetorical question considering that here in Texas almost everybody has freezers stocked with animals they’ve killed and are planning to eat.)
Though I could never butcher a chicken or a cow, there was this one time…
That Time I Killed Something and Ate It
Back in September, while visiting our lovely friends in Maine, we purchased some lobsters from one character of a man at a roadside stand.
(I mean he was a CHARACTER! Just like Popeye incarnate.)
However, the excitement of having only paid $20 for three lobsters melted away the minute I opened the bag and peeked in at the wriggling creatures.
“Uhh…I don’t think I can do this.”
Not an attractive expression, but then again, not an attractive task.
(BTW, have I ever told you that my nose does weird things in certain lighting? Well, it does.)
Anyway, I started the water, muttered a quick prayer over the crustaceans, and…well…carried on with dinner.
“OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GAAAAAaawwwwwwD!!!!!”
“I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SORRY I’M SOoooorrrrrRRY!!!!”
Once the last of the lobsters were in, I slammed the lid on the pot and shed a few tears.
However, just twenty minutes later…
…my tears dried and my smile returned. After all, the little lobsters were now in lobster heaven and dinner was ready!
So with that, we ate them.
(Steaming lobster any time soon? Cook them according to these instructions.)
This post was brought to you by my favorite Far Side cartoon: