I went to this party this weekend which involved something called a Lobster. The Lobsters flew in all the way from Maine, only to be dumped into a very hot pot and then doused in butter. Even with my new tooth I couldn’t quite figure out how to eat them.

At least I was finally not the only person wearing a bib at the table.

A special part of the meal was when Mom and Dad told me stories about my great grammie who was from the same state as those Lobsters. They said she loved to eat Lobsters. That was probably because she had more than one tooth.

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