Today was my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary. And to celebrate Dad wanted to attempt to make our own lobster pot for dinner. Knowing that the lobsters are boiled alive, I chose not to be in the house during the preparation of dinner. When it came time to sit down to dinner, we had quite a feast prepared, including one bright red lobster per person. Having never eaten a lobster before, I was nervous to give it a try.
Dad demonstrated how to crack open the tail to get to the meat, and I thought I had done it correctly. Apparently not, as green liquid poured from the inside of my crustacean. I looked across the table to my sister and asked if the lobster had just pooped on my plate. Her response, “Do you want me to tell you the truth?” My lobster had sought his revenge. I looked to my Dad who was turning red from laughing, almost resembling the lobster on his plate; and started to gag. I ran from the table to the bathroom and gagged until Mom had cleaned up my plate and rinsed out my lobster. I am happy to say that I made my parents’ anniversary memorable. The act of eating the lobster was more work than I think it was worth.
Because of the house we are staying in, we were able to add the shell of our lobsters, along with potato skins and corn cobs to the compost bin in the backyard. At least the lobsters served their purpose in life, and are being returned to the earth. Maine has so far been quite an adventure. I believe that tomorrow night we are going to have lobster at the restaurant, where it has already been de-‘pooped’.
I am just happy that I could make Mom and Dad's anniversary one that they will remember for years to come.
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