Butter butter everywhere . . . And how the house did stink!

One of my funny memories of Mom was of Dad describing Mom eating lobster.

But it wasn't just Jane, Dad said. It was Jane and all the Maine relatives.

You think they're perfectly civilized until you see them eating lobster . . .

First they boil the lobsters alive, right in front of you.
Then they serve them, steaming on a plate, shell and all.
Then there's a lot of loud cracking and snapping as they break the lobsters open with bare hands, dip the flesh in butter
and begin sucking and slurping, sucking and slurping
and then cracking and snapping
more and more . . .

Even the little tiny claws have to be dipped and sucked, dipped and sucked.
Afterwards, you have to mop your hair, face, arms, legs, feet, the floor . . . There's butter driblets and lobster juice everywhere.
And that smell of boiled lobster . . .

Mom laughed and laughed at this description.