Wherein Larry Meets His Demise

WARNING: All animal rights activists and otherwise squeamish people may want to skip this post.  You’ve been warned.

After a morning of missing the schoolbus and epic meltdowns (none of them mine, I’m proud to say) I should have known better than to tempt fate by attempting AGAIN to obtain a lobster for the Lobster Corn Chowder that I was still craving.  But when I found myself approaching the Wegmans with no children in the backseat to protest, I decided to stop in and inquire.

Turns out, there were plenty o’ live lobsters crawling around in their tank, but none were cooked.  The nice guy behind the counter was happy to cook a lobster for me, but it would be 30 minutes before he could get to the steamer.

I debated coming back AGAIN tomorrow, but really, I have better things to do than trek to Wegman’s every day.  And tomorrow I’ll have my 4-year-old with me all day, which was pretty much the clincher.  So I asked for instructions on boiling a lobster and gingerly took the bag holding my new friend to the car.

Now, you should know, I was born in Maine — Vacationland and home of the lobster.  My mom lived her whole life in Maine until she married my dad and took up residence south of the Mason Dixon Line.  We visit Maine about once a year.  I have watched my mom boil lobsters on more than one occasion, and I’ve certainly eaten more than my fair share with their beady little eyes staring at me the entire time.

But despite all that, I was NOT prepared for a LIVE lobster in my kitchen with his long antennae waving about and his squirmy crustacean legs, flicking that decadent meaty tail.  I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to get him from the bag to the pan on my stove.

When it came time to boil Larry the Lobster and put him out of his misery, I took the bag out of the fridge and set it on the counter.


At first I thought he was dead, he was so still.  Then I panicked.  Is it okay to cook him and eat him if he’s already dead?

So I did what every independent woman does when she’s in a bind.  I called my mommy.  Unfortunately there was no answer so I went to my trusty computer and typed in, “Can you eat a dead lobster?”

To which some wise a$$ instructed, “You wouldn’t want to eat a live one, would you?” and then went on to direct me to TOUCH HIS EYES to tell if he’s alive.

Oh I’m SURE I will NOT be touching a lobster’s EYES, dead or alive.  Fortunately the article assured me that if the lobster was freshly dead, he was still okay to cook and eat.

Relieved, I returned to the kitchen and took a look at ole Larry.  His antenna moved, and I squealed.

Y’all.  I don’t do animals.  I don’t even have pets.  I silently berated myself for not waiting until tomorrow for the guy at Wegman’s to cook him for me.

Meanwhile, three curious girls came running to see what all the fuss was about.


I tried to convince one of them to put the lobster in the pot of boiling water for me, but no one was volunteering.  I even showed them a YouTube video I found of a guy boiling a lobster, but no dice.  I know he can’t pinch me or anything with his claws safely secured with thick rubber bands, but those antennae waving around were more than I could handle.

So I put on an oven mitt and picked up a set of tongs and tried to pick him up that way.  It worked so well for the guy in the YouTube video, but for me?  Notsomuch.  Every time I went for him with the tongs, he started flailing around, and he kept sliding out of my grasp.  With each attempt, I got more and more skeeved out by the waving antennae and the thrashing tail, and it was becoming abundantly clear that the tong method was not working for me.

Trying to be helpful, my 6-year-old suggested that we call her father.  I assured her that he wouldn’t be any more willing to pick up the lobster than she was.  Then my 4-year-old suggested that we call the worker men.  It’s nice to know that I’m raising such independent women here.  My son just shook his head from the safety of his perch on the couch.

On my fourth or fifth attempt, the tail thrashed and the tongs slipped and poor Larry went OOOF!  Right on the floor.


That was the last straw.  I collapsed into a heap of hysterical laughter as the girls ran screaming from the room.

Finally I gathered my wits about me and resolutely picked up the tongs and went in for the final round of Housewife vs. Larry the Lobster, and I plopped that feisty crustacean into that pot of boiling water.


I have never been so relieved to put a lid on a pot in my LIFE.

After about eight minutes, it was time to pull him out of the pot, this time without a fight.


Now THAT’S a lobster I know what to do with.  After he cooled off a bit, I pulled him apart and harvested the meat inside, and this is where he ended up.


The end.

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38 Responses

  1. ummm….I think maybe your first problem was that you gave him a name?? 😉

    You are so much more brave that I ever would be! Cooking fresh lobster in my own kitchen will be something that never ever happens, regardless of how amazingly delicious that chowder looked. Yum…but sadly, no.

  2. I feel so bad for Larry! I kept waiting for some big ‘Free Willy’ moment, but alI we get is corn chowder!?

    it does look good though…

  3. Thanks for my Friday morning laugh – I can picture it all in my head.
    I sure do hope that the chowder was good!

    And by the way – this would have been an awesome VLOG!!! So sorry that the camera wasn’t rolling.

    Sounds like a good reason for wine while trick or treating tomorrow night!!

  4. That was definitely the laugh I needed this AM. Oh my word, I don’t know anyone better at creating a drama and still making it come out looking pretty as you do and then writing about it so well! What a hoot. You are amazing.

  5. First off don’t name the sucker! I could never dispatch a lobster if he had a name and did acrobatics like Larry. I only recently got the courage up to eat whole crabs. When I was young I always related to them and couldn’t bring myself to eat their delicious meat.

    Any how, what a story. A story for the ages. What did your husband think when you told him the story? Glad Larry was yummy though.


  6. Bwahahahaha!!!! “Call the worker men.” I am wiping tears of laughter!!! I NEVER would have purchased a live lobster – the car right home would be too stressful. I wouldn’t be able to put the guy anywhere BEHIND me in the van because I would constantly be turning around to see if he escaped. I wouldn’t be able to put him anywhere up front or near me because I would continuously get the creepy crawlies, flinch and possibly wreck.

    I don’t even want to THINK about a live lobster on my counter – or my floor. And then there’s soup? Not from a CAN? THAT’s why I’m so impressed!!!

    The skunk somehow seems easier today.

    This is hilarious. You should link this up at Friday Funnies over at Homesteader’s Heart! (she’s in my sidebar)

  7. OH girl! You know I’m laughing hysterically right now! Because I could have so been a part of this story. But I too wouldn’t have been any help to you. I remember being in Maine and my Mom putting about 5 lobster in a pot of boiling water and them actually screaming! Now I have no problem eating them but when it came time to watch them go into the pot I was a coward! I always had to leave the room. LOL We went back to Maine to visit my parents about 3 years ago and once again we had lobster but I was nowhere to be found when the cooking began! LOL
    Loved this story my friend and thanks for sharing and linking it up today!

  8. Oh.My.Goodness. I can’t stop laughing! I admit that I COULD NOT have done that. I would have waited for someone else to cook him.
    You are so brave and fearless!!!!

  9. Jo-Lynne I had to have my husband come out and read this! It is too funny!! Love the lobster upside down on the floor and in the pot! Now that you have cooked one you will have no problem from now on, right?!! Thanks for a good laugh for the day!

  10. Jamie, you would NOT call me brave if you could have seen me shrieking and shuddering all over the kitchen yesterday. Ahem.

  11. If this saga had continued any longer, I was going to tell you to give up and make CRAB corn chowder. You know, with the crab from a CAN. Haha. Live lobsters are on my list of things I’m afraid to cook, along with yeast breads. I know, I have a problem. The final result looks amazing. And, now you know you can do it for next time. Will there be a next time??

  12. There will most certainly be a next time, as I now have almost an entire bottle of cream sherry sitting in my cupboard. 🙂 But I will definitely plan better and order him COOKED. 🙂

    And yeast breads should not frighten you. Yeast may be alive, but it doesn’t have antennae and creepy crawly legs. BLEH.

  13. Oh my. I was reading your post and brushing my teeth (why? I don’t know. But it will never happen again.) and then I got to the part where you dropped Larry on the floor.

    I have since recovered from choking on toothpaste foam and my own spit, and have wiped my computer desk with bleach wipes. Gross.

    Poor Larry!! He fought till the end!!

  14. That is soooo funny! I can totally relate, since I don’t do any kind of pets either! I don’t know if I could have done it, even with the tongs:)

  15. Wow! You are amazing. Didn’t the lobster stink up your house? I have never attempted to boil a lobster in fear of the smell (and the claws). The chowder is beautiful!

  16. Yeah, that’s why I’d never tried it at home before. My mom brought me up to believe they are only good in Maine, lol.

  17. Thanks for a very satisfying laugh this morning! I can picture the whole things, and I LOVE that you got a picture of Larry on the floor!!! LOL!!! If only my hubs weren’t deathly allergic to shellfish!

  18. Hilarious! I look forward to your posts more and more each day! (P.S. Noticed one of your daughters had a Phils shirt on in the picture – Go Phillies!)

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