Whatever Dude, We've Got Crabs
It is my understanding that, in America, when people become first-time homeowners (or "homos," for short), there are sometimes a lot of unexpected critters and wildlife that have to be dealt with. Often, I am told, people buy homes in the States, only to find they must have the entire structure tented and sprayed for termites. Or what about when you move into a new apartment, and find an army of cockroaches parading out of the drain in the sink at 5:00AM? Or in the northeast, birds pecking holes in your roof? All nuisances, to be sure.
In Mexico, we are not without our share of animal and insect pests. Right here on this blog, we have documented our encounters with man-eating cave crickets, ants that cannot be stopped using conventional means, and scorpions the size of your palm (but much less friendly). But what we never expected to be included with our house on the beach, was CRABS.
CRABS! We heard a rustling in the kitchen, but didn't pay much attention. It wasn't until Jillian exclaimed, "Malcolm, there's a crab in the kitchen." For a minute, I couldn't see it, I think because that sentence makes no sense, and my brain was refusing to accept it. But after looking a little closer, sure enough, there WAS a crab, a big blue crab, at least eight inches across, claws to the sky in an effort to threaten me. Panic ensued; a pan was produced for scooping, which didn't work one bit. Finally, I grabbed what was left of my wits and a pair of long tongs, picked the fellow up, and tossed him out into the surf, where I can only assume he rejoined his mates for a strategy session...for the next strike.
It still beats cockroaches. Brrrrgh.
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