Ok, I don't usually dwell on stuff, but I feel like I should explain the whole birthday crab thing. I know it'll be hard to believe, but I swear it was an accidental death.
No, really. It kinda was. Y'see we went to the beach last weekend and brother Dutch dug up this great big dead crab (he's really good at finding dead stuff). He said it was "too smelly" for him to eat and gave it to me because I'll eat anything (see exhibit A) . I'd never eaten - or ever seen - a crab before and wasn't sure what to do with it. So I just ate whatever came first.
And it was kinda gross. And really really crunchy. Dutch just laughed and told me I was eating the crab's shell, which is really just a crab-container and not the part you're supposed to eat. To get to the good stuff, he said, I had to break the shell open to find the insides.
And that's all I was trying to do with the birthday crab! I thought if I ripped it open, I could get to the yummy insides. I wasn't trying to destroy it. That just kinda happened when I was looking for a way in.Then once I got it open, it wasn't anything like the crab at the beach. So I just kept pulling it apart, looking for the yummy stuff (which, for the record, I never did find).
I'm not the heartless birthday-crab toy killer Dutch made me out to be. I just wanted to eat some crab! It was just, like, a bad case of hunger or mistaken identity or something.