Lobster

 When my son was in kindergarten there was a what do you want to be when you grow up day/event.  My son dressed in a shirt and bathing trunks and carried a bucket with a stuffed squid in it.  (I think...my memory may be wrong.)  He wanted to be a marine scientist.  Or maybe that's just what my mother told him.

Back then he spent a week or two with my parents at the NJ shore and would spend weekdays from 10-2 (or maybe it was 9-2) attending a marine science camp.  They were “headquartered" on the bay and went to the ocean once or twice a week.  They learned all about life in both bodies of water.  My son really took to it.  (Again, I think my other helped with this.)  He may be the only kid who had stuffed sea animals like a turtle, a squid (he might have had two...he still might), a swordfish, a horseshoe crab...well you get the idea.  He was obsessed with giant squid and chamber nautilus.  By the time his tenure with the marine science camp was coming to a close, he was giving actual presentations to the group. He knew his stuff. He had illustrated drawings that he had done. He was on his game. 

As recently as last year, before we sold the house at the shore, he was still spending time on the dock at the house catching crabs, setting them free and having crab races.  (Crab races consist of releasing the crabs that you had caught in the trap onto the dock. The “winning” crab will be the one who found his/her way off the dock and back into the lagoon first. There were plenty of times when we had to prod some of the crabs in the right direction. It was always amazing how long it took some of them to find their way back even though it was right there.) Before my father got sick he and my son spent a lot of time crabbing off the dock. My son could identify a female or male crab before he could read! 

While my son no longer wants to be a marine scientist, he still cares about marine life.

My son has also been an active member in our church since he was little. He's helped out and shopped at the thrift shop the church houses.  (Funds raise go to keeping the church open as well as to local community efforts like the food pantry and worldwide charities like help for Ukraine.)  The volunteer staff (mainly women) know him and love him. (What's not to love.)  One of the volunteers at the shop was also one of my son's Sunday school teachers and confirmation leader.

What do these things have to do with each other?  Seemingly nothing, but...

One of the "regulars" at the thrift shop also happens to be an artist and a baker.  Several years ago, she made a lamb cake for the church on Easter.  It was an incredible cake that really looked like a lamb.  My son loved it.  He said several times over the years that he wanted a lamb cake for his birthday.  However, I didn't know the lady AND since I have egg allergies, it didn't happen.

And then...

This year his former confirmation leader, CT, said she was going to get him a cake.  What did he want?  Did he say a lamb cake?  NO!  He said lobster and...

 


That's how on Tuesday the above arrived at the shop.  It resided in the church kitchen while my son worked.  (Not at the shop...he is a counselor at the theater camp that rents space in the church.)  When he was done, he somehow managed to get this home.  (I'm sure he drove very slowly.)

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?), the cake had to be disassembled somewhat to get in our fridge.  This gave my son a chance to eat some of the lobster.  (I think my husband helped by having a small piece.)  He took another piece to a friend who couldn't believe that he had a lobster cake.

Now there is a large covered partial "lobster" in my fridge.  (It takes up most of the bottom shelf; it doesn't help that we have a small fridge.)  I've encouraged my son to bring it back to the church on Thursday (when the thrift shop is open again), so that he can share it with the volunteers.  Although my son likes cake, this is too much cake for one person!  (Remember I can't eat and although my husband did have a small slice, he can't have any more due to his diabetes.)  I'm sure it will get eaten somehow. I'm sure the bottom shelf of the fridge will once again be lobster cake free.  Won't it?

 

 


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