A light bulb went off the other day when I had the idea to have a collection of children’s stories on my blog. Here is attempt #2. Attempt #1 had the names above as Dabby, Crabby, Flabby, and Gabby. This one may be a lot longer than the others. Enjoy. And I joke, worst case if it’s really boring you have a great option to get the kids in bed when you want. I imagine my first fan mail, something like, “Mike, I loved your children’s story. It wasn’t very good, in fact I didn’t get it, but my kids, oh my, I started reading it after dinner and they slept until noon the next day. Keep ’em coming. I don’t know how you did it, but we no longer have to drug them up now.”
Lobster Tales (The Adventures of Hawthorne and Reginaldo)
by Michael J. Ilardo
Hawthorne-the-Lobster lived in a lobster trap at the bottom of the sea, just off the shore of the village of Kennebunk in York County, Maine.
He had a bit of a roommate, though not the intentional kind, named Reginaldo. Reginaldo too was a lobster, but was very, very grumpy. He was a warm-water spiny lobster originally from the deep waters of the Caribbean, so the cold northern waters did nothing but add to his grumpiness.
Hawthorne would stick out his claws and catch the little fishes that would swim by each day, and he would share them with Reginaldo for dinner and brunch. Cranky Reginaldo would just complain and say he was allergic to seafood.
Reginaldo really just wanted a hot bowl of Caribbean Corn Chowder, but without the corn.
When other lobsters would start to swim into the trap, Reginaldo would give them a pinch, and back out they went.
When Hawthorne would start to swim out of the trap, Reginaldo would give him a pinch, and back in he went.
One day, two lobster men spotted a floating blue-striped buoy and grabbed the attached old frayed rope. They almost pulled the lobster trap right onto the boat! Just at that moment, Reginaldo-the-Lobster poked out his pinchers and pinched the lobster men before they knew what pinched them. KUH-Splash! Hawthorne and Reginaldo plunged back to the bottom of the sea. Before they hit the water, Reginaldo pinched the rope in just the right spot and the buoy floated away. The cage was instantly free. KUH-splash, Hawthorne and Reginaldo plunged back down to the bottom of the sea.
But they were still in their lobster trap home, still off the shore of the village of Kennebunk, over in York County in the state of Maine.
Wanting to be free, that is unstuck-from-the-trap-free, Hawthorne-the-lobster had an idea.
Later that day, he popped his little left lobster legs out the left side of the lobster trap and he popped his little right lobster legs out the right side of the lobster trap. At the bottom of the sea, he shimmied toward the shore. He kept going toward the beach, and soon he shimmied his way down a country road toward the village of Kennebunk in York County, Maine.
And cantankerous Reginaldo pinched him, all the while.
Now wanting a refreshing drink, Hawthorne-the-lobster had an idea.
As they shimmied up the hill, away from the shore of the village of Kennebunk (in York County, Maine), Hawthorne spotted a brown and white spotted Dairy Cow. Luella was her name.
“Excuse me, Luella-the-cow. I am Hawthorne-the-Lobster, and this cranky crustacean pinching me is Reginaldo. After shimmying from the bottom of the sea just off the shore and finding ourselves in Kennebunk here, we are very, very thirsty. Do you mind sparing some milk?”
Hawthorne lifted up an empty conch shell that just happened to be at the bottom of the lobster trap, and Luella filled it with milk.
Reginaldo refused the milk and complained, and said he was lactose intolerant. Reginaldo just wanted a bowl of hot Caribbean Corn Chowder, without any corn of course, and to not have to deal with any cows for that matter.
As they shimmied, lobster trap and all, up the old country road in the village of Kennebunk, Maine, they spotted an old country farmhouse and an old country window and hot fresh country buttermilk biscuits still warm on the old country window sill.
Hawthorne quickly shimmied the lobster trap and Reginaldo and all their belongings up to the old window ledge and grabbed two hot country buttermilk biscuits, warm from the country oven.
“I can’t eat biscuits, I am gluten intolerant!” said crabby Reginaldo, still hoping for some hot Caribbean Cornless Corn Chowder.
Just then a woodpecker started pecking on the crate. Wetherbee was her name.
Hawthorne-the-lobster had an idea.
“Woodpecker Wetherbee, will you take this cockle shell I found at the bottom of our cage and peck this milk, and turn it into butter for our biscuits?”
The woodpecker made the butter rather quickly and Hawthorne had fresh-buttered, hot, country buttermilk biscuits.
Reginaldo murmured, “I have high cholesterol and can’t have any butter.”
Hawthorne wasn’t swayed. He grabbed a fresh lemon off the tree he spotted, used a clam shell he found at the bottom of the lobster trap, and made a golden lemon jam.
“Citrus gives me a headache. And lemon jam doesn’t go on non-lemony biscuits.” complained Reginaldo.
Hawthorne-the-lobster had an idea. He soon spotted a beaver warming himself by the fire. The farmer had made the fire a few hours prior, to warm the water for the morning tea, because the farmer’s wife always had hot fresh biscuits out on the porch with her morning tea.
“How can I help?” asked Emerson-the-Beaver.
“Do you mind eating our crate for breakfast to help us go free, so we can go back to the sea where we came from before we ventured over to your neck of woods here in Kennebunk?” asked Hawthorne.
“I would love to!” exclaimed the beaver. “But I must hurry, for I have a busy, busy schedule ahead of me.”
Emerson-the-beaver soon had the wood trap devoured. Reginaldo was not pleased. “You destroyed my home and I am not one bit happy about that,” he said as he tried to pinch Emerson and Hawthorne.
But this time, when Reginaldo tried to pinch, he missed! And before he knew it, Reginaldo landed in the pot of boiling water that was meant for some tea.
A few minutes later, the farmer came out to find a perfectly boiled Caribbean lobster, with fresh butter and lemon.
And Hawthorne-the-lobster headed back to the still, blue Maine sea, ready for the next adventure.
