In keeping with my birthday tradition, most of the meals were eaten out. I skipped breakfast altogether because Fiddledaddy had scheduled a massage for me at our gym.
I was a wee bit worried about how I would negotiate the massage table, while managing my crutches and maintaining my dignity. In the end, my dignity suffered. BUT SO WHAT? The massage was magnificent. And she did, in fact, make mention that my back was a mess from all the limping, managing with a singular crutch, and STRESS.
What do I have to be stressed about?
Afterward, we loaded up the van to head to a new restaurant on the river. Because it is insanely popular, we arrived by 11 am. Nearly all the handicapped spaces were occupied because evidently, the elderly have deemed 11:00 am, the new noon hour.
I seem to be running with the elderly crowd lately.
Fiddledaddy and I both had our hearts set on seafood fare, despite the early hour, while the children gravitated toward the safe corndog/hamburger variety of food.
Under ordinary circumstances, I would order something deep fried. You just can never go wrong with anything fried to a crisp in a vat of lard. Instead I threw caution to the wind and ordered the crablegs.
Claws and all.
My children had never witnessed someone actually ripping into and eating the contents of Sebastian the Crab from Little Mermaid fame. Dipped in butter.
I thought we were going to lose Cailey.
I’m not very adept at cracking into crab shells, even though I was armed with the correct instruments of destruction. Needless to say, claws, sea water, tendons, and shell pieces went flying everywhere.
It was a shame that I had to enjoy my delicious birthday lunch with the sounds of gagging and retching in stereo from all of my children seated about me. Happily I was able to block them out by CRACKING THE CLAWS EVEN LOUDER, AND SLURPING DOWN THE MEAT OF THE CRAB AFTER DUNKING IT IN THE HOT BUTTER.
Oh it was enjoyable.
My children have stated for the record that they are now vegetarians.
On the way home, I pointed out a gaggle of vultures dining on an armadillo on the sidewalk. Making note that the vultures certainly could have used the nut cracker I just had at lunch. And some warm butter.
More gagging and retching from the peanut gallery.
I’m thinking I’m going to have to serve sea food more often.