Knick Knacks: The Great Gimpy vs Lobster Battle of 2013

Picture it: Atlantic SuperStore, Fairview Halifax during a no-tax sale. Myself and three small kids wandering through deciding on how to spend our very small budget to obtain maximum meal results. We also required something for a celebratory meal since after months of stress, worry and spending copious amounts of money for requested paperwork, my long-term disability claim was approved. I don't have to worry anymore about forcing myself back to work and can concentrate on my appointments, the lifestyle changes, regulating medications and getting myself to a good place before I have to add work to the equation but, I digress, as that is not the point of this story.

We traipsed around the store until I spied a big yellow discount sign in the seafood department, I swung a hard left almost knocking three tiny people down like dominoes and headed toward the beacon of money saving possibilities. That is where I saw a sale on lobster. LOBSTER! So not only did I find cooked, fresh lobsters at a no-tax sale but also marked down for sale. I rummaged through the bin with the other vultures, shooting necessary dirty looks until I found the perfect lobster. Not too big and not too small not too big of an amount on the price tag which fit perfectly within the range of "I'd only spend it on tea at Tim's anyway" reasoning.

Red Delicious

We brought home our fresh red delicious crustacean and carefully placed him in the fridge. There he sat while I sat at the table realizing that I have the grip strength of an eight year old child and cracking a lobster could prove next to impossible. The search for a volunteer lobster cracker began and, after two days and contacting pretty much everyone I know to see if they would be willing to come help me, I ended up with no help. Finally, on the second day I came to realize I was in the position where it was either eat the damn thing or introduce him to the compost bucket in the morning. I almost mourned this lobster by constantly thinking about the newspaper and plastic bag covered table, the mess of the shells, how long it had been since I've dribbled lobster juice down my chin and the front of my shirt while I was tipped back in my chair and sucking on claw like a por... nevermind, not finishing that analogy but I'm sure you guys get it.

I decided to take out Red Delicious and while ripping open the plastic wrap had a chat with the lesions in my brain to please allow my hands to not be so weak today because there was something important that needed to be completed. No, I don't have a nutcracker and yes I have a hammer but considering the fact that I drop almost everything I pick up, no one really wants me to be swinging a hammer. I thought about it, I planned and, in some cases, I sent texts with subliminal messages such as, "feel like having some lobster?" but it didn't work. I considered locking the munchkins in a room and digging out my hard hat so I could hulk smash this little beast but then thought of the possible holes in the walls or the broken kitchen window that could result from me flailing any type of heavy object. Finally I was cranky and decided to go for it.

Calm.

Prepare for murderous rampage.

I know, it's not very big but we had our talk and I think my hate face finally softened his shell.

I took some deep breaths, I had some minor meditation and then Red Delicious and I had our talk. I explained to this beast that I was a mother with children to feed and that he was going to a better place, our bellies. Finally I tried an intimidation tactic and showed this little, delicious ocean cockroach who was boss and brought out my hate face. I put it on the table, I took off my sweater and put a bun in my hair and readied myself for the gimp battle of the year so far. My cracking, aching hands were no match for my will power ... and, aside from that, I was hungry. I grasped the tail, I twisted and I pulled.

SURPRISE!

Hell yeah, now let's get serious.

The beginning of my victories over this beast of the sea!

I snapped that tail one way and then split it the other pulling the meat out and letting the juice spill on the plate below me. I tossed the remnants onto a plastic bag and went for the body. Slowly I removed each leg, one by one and enjoying every snap of the shell as it came off in my greasy hand with a crunch and a squirt of the salty water this monster once lived and was boiled it. As I grasped the now legless and tailless body in my hands, I squeezed it in my fists and felt that shell crack which allowed me to open it and take out the gross stuff that none of us here eats. However, I did get to inspect the inside of Red Delicious' head which followed promptly by disgusting myself at how a little too interested I had become in lobster brains.

The tail was completed, the legs were removed and the plates were filling up with lobster meat but there was one part left: claws. This is the part I was worried about, the part that gave this Lester his strength in his life might be the downfall of my slow victories today. I took a deep breath and started, each knuckle coming off easier than I expected (the lobster's, not mine although it was starting to feel like mine were about to snap off) and I pushed little pieces of meat onto the plates while the juices started spilling to the floor. A messy clean up was worth these small conquests and I was happily sitting on the top of the food chain. I did it. I cracked the claws and dug out the meat. The juices and bits of shell covered my shirt and I was loving it.

After wiping up the majority of the mess, I yelled to my kids to come taste the fruits of my labour. One little lobster died so that we could have a treat ... CORRECTION: so that they could have a treat. The three little monsters ate it up so fast by the time I turned back around from putting the shells in the compost, it was all gone. Vultures. I live with three tiny vultures but it's okay since they were smiling and happy on the top of their food chain too.