I Fought the Crab and the Crab Won

So, as I sit here typing with one hand I am feeling more than a little defeated. I was given a 'simple' task by my sweetheart to get the meat out of a lobster and crab. Wait, not just a crab, but a giant-bad-ass-crab on steroids. When he mentioned it, I didn't think much of it. So I got them out of the fridge and went to work. Lobster -no problema. Crab...whole nuther ball game. I looked at this massive bright red crustacean and tried and tried to infiltrate the shell. I put that sumbitch into positions rivaled only by yoga instructors and it held fast. Nada. This was not gonna be easy. So, being an educated woman, I did what seemed at the time to be an obvious solution. I went to hunt up a hammer, knife and pliers. (Those of you who know me well can see what's coming next, right?!) I proceded to crack open one of it's creepy giant legs and forked out what seemed to be a pitiful amount of meat. WTF? I carried on, however, ignoring the pieces of meat, shell and crab juice flying hither and yon. I even managed to crack the claws and was more satisfied with the amount of meat. I was starting to wonder if this procedure was worth it! When it came time for the body, I had to cut through a clear, hard boney thing. This was where I decided the knife would be useful. This is where I would be WRONG! As I pushed the knife in and started to fork out the meat, I noticed blood running down my arm. Taking a closer look, I could see the fairly deep cut on my hand just under my index finger. Dang it! So, I had to stop everything and go wash and bandage it.
Just then Martin came home and saw the problem. He ever so jauntily grabbed this horrible crab and just as easy as you please cracked everything else open for me. Show off. I will be making a crab and lobster salad just as soon as the bleeding stops. As he reminded me, I am an island girl now, and that means I must conquer the crab. Next time I am thinking I will just run over the thing with the car.
My next cooking adventure will no doubt be about the whole cow head sitting in the freezer. Yes, you read that right. The whole 'effing thing (which, by the way I refused to carry home on the back of the scooter). The funny thing is, not one person that lives here would have thought twice about seeing such a thing. After all - this is Mexico. I love it. I see grown men carry Hello Kitty backpacks to work and they just don't give a shit who likes it or not. You have to be a REAL man to wear Hello Kitty....