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But I open the pane and pop out the flame just to see how the wind do blow
My niece was fascinated by the lobsters in their tanks at Fresh Pond Seafood. We had just picked up our order to go when a shipment of fresh lobsters arrived on ice. Instantly she did not want to leave; she wanted to watch them transferred into the tanks, she stepped up onto the low wooden rim of the flower bed out front of the store to get a better look into the crates in the back of the truck; when I explained what was going on, the lobster/deliveryman took one off the top of the ice and offered it for her to hold. She wasn't quite comfortable taking it herself, but she petted its cold shell when I held it and watched its antennae move and there was a slight mishap handing it back to the man, but I confirmed afterward that the lobster was fine. I am not sure she understands entirely that crustaceans in tanks, when encountered in a fish market, are not pets after the fashion of Gérard de Nerval, but she was so excited about them—she named several while we were waiting and declared an enormous blue one their leader, causing me to imagine a jailbreak or heist—and I love that the older man making the delivery responded to her enthusiasm in kind. Then we went home and ate fried clams and shrimp and rewatched the first hour of Ponyo (2008), after which it was bedtime just as Ponyo finished her ramen and passed out. Next week we are planning to take her to the sea.
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Prior to this conversation, yes, I had mentioned him. She had been playing with a little plush lobster, which made me think of it.