Lobsters, Pigs, and Husbands

We’re having lobster tonight.  Hubbie bought three from a fisherman parked on the side of the road earlier in the day. Why he bought three and not four for two people is beyond me, but hey, I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth; I love lobster. I’m not sure how one divides a lobster in half, but I suppose it can be done; we’ll manage, I’m sure. Two claws are easy. I don’t eat the bodies or the legs, so Hubbie can have those. We can cut the tail in two, even though it won’t be an even split. They’re large lobsters, so perhaps one each’ll do us anyhow. After all, Hubbie IS on a diet. Not me.

Hubbie lets them crawl over one section of the kitchen counter for a bit while the water boils. At one point, he holds the biggest one in his hand and strokes its underside, like he’s fascinated, as if he’s never seen one before. Ugh and yikes! Then he unceremoniously deposits each one in the huge pot of boiling water and plops down the lid. A mere seconds later, the lid is bouncing around, up and down.

I kinda pity those poor lobsters trying to save themselves from their certain fate.

While the lobsters try to escape, a discussion ensues about brains and which are smarter – lobsters or pigs. The topic began, I think, cause I brought up the show I saw last night about the inhumane treatment of pigs in pig farms somewhere in the U.S.  The narrator talked of mother pigs separated from their piglets and how the mothers would sneak back to their babies, only to be brutally attacked by the employees of the farm when discovered. There were other horrific stories, not to mention video and photos.  I tell ya, I’m not eating pork ever again. I forget the name of the show; maybe it was part of the news. Anyhow, someone on the show said pigs were as smart as dogs. When I mentioned that – well, that started Hubbie on his tirade. He thinks dogs are the smartest animals and cats the dumbest.  (How cats snuck into this discussion I don’t know.)

“Where was I when that show was on?” he asks.

“I dunno, you must have been asleep, or down in your man cave.” I can’t keep track of where he is at the best of times.

“Well, who says pigs are as smart as dogs?”

“I dunno, that show I watched.”

“Well, where did they get that information? Can I say that ants and spiders are smart, too, and have everyone believe me?”

Now he’s getting ridiculous.

“There was some sort of study. News shows just don’t make up facts, you know,” I say.

“Well, where did they get their facts from?”

I’m exasperated by now, wishing I had never opened my mouth. “I dunno. They never said. It wasn’t a show on which animal’s the smartest, you know. It was a show on inhumanity to pigs. It was just a comment made in passing.”

Then he gets back on his tirade of ants and spiders. He knows I hate those things. Then he asks about flowers and plants. “When you cut one, do they not feel it?”

Jeepers.

I gulp down my wine and pour another glass. He concentrates on the boiling lobsters.

“Dandelions fold up at night, did you know that?” he suddenly says.

No, I didn’t.  I make a mental note to google “dandelions.” My curiosity gets the better of me, however, and minutes later, I sneak into the office.

Yep, he’s right. Google knows everything. Yes, indeed, the flower head of the dandelion closes up at nights and during inclement weather. I figure it must be nature’s way of protecting them. After all, dandelions don’t have a brain, do they?

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