craw

The smell of boiled crawfish filled the Louisiana kitchen as steam rose from the big silver pot. Momma stirred the spicy mixture with a long wooden spoon while Dad set up the newspaper-covered table. Gage watched with wide eyes, his stomach already growling at the thought of the feast. Little Laine bounced in his high chair, sensing the excitement in the air.

"Alright, cher, time to learn how to peel a crawfish," Momma announced, rolling up her sleeves. Gage climbed onto his knees in the chair, eager to learn the family tradition. Dad winked at him while sipping his cold beer. Laine babbled happily, smacking his little hands on the high chair tray.

Momma grabbed a fat crawfish from the steaming pile. "First, grab it where the head and tail meet—right here," she instructed. "Now twist!" With a quick motion, she separated the head from the tail.

"Some folks suck the head for the good juices," Momma explained with a smile. Gage's face scrunched up in disgust. "Ew, no way!" Dad chuckled, reaching for the discarded head. "More for me, then!"

"Now, pinch the end of the tail, squeeze a little, and pull," Momma continued her lesson. She demonstrated by sliding out a perfect piece of meat. Gage watched carefully, determined to master this important skill. Momma dipped the meat in melted butter before popping it into her mouth.

Gage selected his own crawfish, his small fingers working carefully. Twist, pinch, pull—just like Momma showed him. His face lit up when the tail meat came out whole. "I did it!"

"That's my boy!" Momma clapped proudly as Gage dipped his crawfish meat in butter. He took a bite, his eyes widening at the spicy, rich flavor. "Mmm! That's good!" Laine reached toward the pile, clearly wanting to join in the fun.

Dad laughed at Laine's eager reaching. "Looks like we got another crawfish lover in the family." He carefully peeled a tiny piece and cooled it before offering it to Laine. The little boy's face lit up at his first taste of the family tradition.

The kitchen filled with laughter as they continued their meal. Dad passed around the golden corn and steaming potatoes. Momma showed Gage how to crack open the claws for the sweet meat inside. Laine happily munched on a soft piece of potato.

Gage wiped his hands on a napkin before reaching for another crawfish. His fingers moved more confidently now with each one he peeled. "Momma, I think I'm getting good at this!" Momma smiled proudly at her son.

Momma ruffled Gage's hair affectionately. "Told you, cher. Crawfish season ain't just about eatin'." She looked around at her family gathered at the table. "It's about family."

As the evening continued, Gage's pile of empty shells grew higher. Dad taught him how to toss the shells into the discard bucket. Laine clapped his hands each time Gage made a successful throw. That night, under the warm glow of their Cajun kitchen, Gage became a true crawfish peeler.