"Lobstah and the Brown Paper Bag, Come on Down"

Every Fathers Day our Son drives his Harley Davidson into the yard with a brown paper bag strapped behind him. The brown paper bag is very large and partially wet. Our Son slings his leg over the seat, takes off his helmet and unwraps the brown paper bag which is secured to the bike. He proudly marches up the walk with the brown paper bag under his arm pit and hands his traditional Fathers Day gift to his Dad. You guessed it. A hugh lobstah weighing in at approximately 10 lbs. Our Son always picks the largest Lobstah he can find as he knows that is his Fathers favorite thing in the world to eat. He salivates when he sees his Son on Fathers Day because he knows what he will be eating that day. He never shares the Lobstah with his better half, either. He boils up the water, puts that poor Lobstah head first in boiling water and cooks it until done to perfection. He then sits down with drawn butter on the side, a non alcoholic beer, a smile on his face, and he is in his glory feasting on the poor old Lobstah.

It just does not seem right that the 10 pound Lobstah should die of such a horrible death. He is approximately 75 years old and in a matter of seconds he is dead. It usually takes 5-7 years for a Lobstah to reach 1 pound. This old Lobstah was around when the Yo-Yo was introduced, the First Class Stamp was 2 cents, Popeye made his debut, Herbert Hoover was President, Stock Market Crash/Great Depression begins, Dick Clark was born, the NY Yankees put numbers on the back of uniforms and Penicillin was first used to fight infections. Just doesn't seem right.

Do you think I am just a little jealous that I am not offered just a little taste of the Lobstah? Well, I am jealous. It is my favorite thing to eat too. All I get for Mothers Day is a hanging plant that I seem to kill in a matter of days. Not that I am not appreciative of the plant but, just once, would I like to see that Harley Davidson come down our driveway on Mothers Day with the same brown paper bag affixed to the back of the bike. Maybe next year?