We had a successful weekend. Everybody managed to stay mostly amused and unusually quiet for two whole days!

Of course 

 this helped.And this.          This too.

 

But still.

 

There was, however, a lot of excitement last night Inzaburbs. My fault.

 

The Daddy has been nagging me for weeks to bring home crawfish from one of my many shopping expeditions, despite the fact that crawfish season is more or less over. So I was dancing with joy yesterday afternoon  when I found an enormous tub of the things at the local supermarket. 

 

The Wictor and T-Bot were intrigued, as was The Daddy when we finally made it home and showed him our spoils. 

“Ummmm…” he said with a puzzled expression on his face, “…they’re… alive”. 

 

Unexpected glitch there. This brain was disengaged at the point of purchase. We have always bought crawfish ready cooked before, and I neglected to think ahead to the killing spree that would have to follow. But, actually, no problem, for it was here that my breton genes kicked in and I coolly and calmly set a pot of water on to boil. 

 

While it was heating up I turned my back and this happened: 

Feisty little beggars.

 

Much screaming ensued. Because Baby Sister decided the escapees were going to jump off the counter and bite her. They didn’t. They did move their pincers around though, and in a very menacing fashion. 

 

I’ll spare you the details of what followed, except to say that when their time came, they were dispatched, quickly and painlessly. And they tasted very nice.