04 September 2012

My First Lobster: A Story of Maine

We traveled to Maine over the weekend to take care of some immigration business.  We stayed two nights at the border and one night about an hour outside of Bangor, because Bangor was completely booked up.  When I expressed surprise at Bangor's popularity, Steve informed me that it is practically the most popular city in America. Based on the number of Canadian license plates in the parking lot of the Bangor Mall, this may actually be true for Canadians.  No wonder the people of Steve's country are always unintentionally insulting me--their impressions of my country are all based on trips to Bangor, Maine and Florida.

This is what Maine looks like out a quickly-moving car.

As soon as we crossed the border, I began singing my repertoire of patriotic American songs.  I made sure to sing 'My Country 'Tis of Thee' specially for Steve so that he could sing along with his version if he wanted to and wouldn't feel left out that The Bairn and I are US citizens.

Marmot Dad's niece, Katya, is a librarian in Maine, so we roped her into being our tour guide.  Lucky woman got to spend six hours with us touring the shopping malls of Bangor.  It may have been more time than she wanted to spend shopping.  (It was more time than I wanted to spend shopping.)  Merchandise in America is very inexpensive.  And in the grocery stores in Maine, they sell tubs (TUBS) of marshmallow fluff and tinned squash for pie filling and cans of brown bread.  Amazing.  (My country 'tis of thee.  Sweet land of liiiiiiberty.)

I bought some shoes.  They're red.

One night we ate dinner at Katya's house.  Her roommate made us lobster, which I had never had before (except in lobster potato salad or seafood chowder).  I found the experience delicious but barbaric.  Steve had to complete a lot of the wrenching apart of the lobster for me and everyone ended up giving me instructions for getting meat out of those teeny tiny lobster legs (suck as for a pixie stick).

I ate him.

The Bairn found Maine quite pleasing, especially the part where he got to sleep in bed with me for several nights, a tradition that he says he would like to continue.  It was incredibly cute when we came home, though, and he was thrilled to see his books! and toys! and EXERSAUCER!  And now I must convince him that he also loves his bed (but he doesn't).


Katya said...

Hooray for Maine! (Also, I'm on your blog, so I must be famous. Take that Trevor-in-Thailand!)

MBC said...

What? No pictures of the baby chewing on a lobster? Love, Mom

MBC said...

Katya--You're totally famous.

Mom--Babies are not allowed to try lobster in our family until they're 34-years-old.

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