September 5, 2011
Today my husband and I took our kids crabbing. Basically this amounts to tying chicken necks to a metal crab trap and waiting for something to happen.
When we didn't catch a crab within the first two minutes, the expedition was deemed a failure.
"I guess we're never going to catch a crab," Cortlen announced, throwing up his hands. My husband and I watched helplessly as the kids hopped off the fishing pier and onto the sandy beach below. While all of the big crabs were in the water, there were several hundred tiny crabs (ie. size of a fingernail) scurrying around on the sand.
Everyone was having a great time playing with the little crabs until they started going down people's shirts.
"AGH!!!!!" Camber screamed at the top of her lungs. "Cortlen put a crab down my back!"
"You threw one at me first!" he yelled back.
Kellen split the difference and tossed a handful of the creatures into the air. "It's raining crabs!" he screamed.
I buried my face in my hands. "Why do they always have to ruin everything?" I asked my husband.
By then, all three kids were punching each other.
My husband shook his head. "Next time, let's take them deep sea fishing," he said. "That will be super fun."