That Time I Killed Something and Ate It


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.

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“Uhh…I don’t think I can do this.”

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“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!”

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.

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“OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GAAAAAaawwwwwwD!!!!!”

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“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…

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…my tears dried and my smile returned.  After all, the little lobsters were now in lobster heaven and dinner was ready!

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So with that, we ate them.

(Steaming lobster any time soon?  Cook them according to these instructions.)

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This post was brought to you by my favorite Far Side cartoon:

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