Annual Crawfish Boil

When I say the weather last Saturday was perfect, I do in fact mean PERFECT. Days like we had last weekend typically do not exist in southern Louisiana. We’re usually already glistening with sweat the moment we step outside, saying over and over again, “And it’s not even August yet!” I truly hope the Louisiana Mays of the future are blessed with a few perfect days like the ones we had this past week. Simply gorgeous.

We could not have asked for a better day on which to boil 185 pounds of crawfish and hang out with 40 of our friends and 14 of their kids. And this year wasn’t even our biggest boil! That would be last year, when we boiled 215 pounds of mudbugs and when we hadn’t met this guy yet:

How cute is he in his little crawfish onesie! Or maybe it’s a lobster…..I really should know these things.

This wasn’t Riley’s first crawfish boil, but it was his biggest crawfish experience thus far. He got up close and personal with some of the bugs and even stuck his hand in the ice chest when I wasn’t looking. (Oops.) Luckily, no harm was done to those chubby little fingers.

Riley also got to meet a new friend: Mike and Kim’s daughter Aubrie, who is a month older than he is (but weighs 6 pounds LESS). The two of them were so cute together; they seemed to be truly fascinated with each other. And all of the kids loved when Aunt Lizzie sat down and blew some bubbles for them.

I think everyone had a great day. The pool was open, the music was crankin’, and the crawfish were plentiful. I am so glad that Kenny and I continue to get great turnouts every year we do this. Some of our friends do Halloween, some do New Year’s, and some do the Fourth of July, but boilin’ crawfish is our thing, and I love it.

Even though he did not partake in the actual eating of the crawfish, Riley certainly had a busy day, meeting new people and spending lots of time outside. So busy, in fact, that he refused to take his afternoon nap. He had only been in his crib for 10 minutes before Nola went to get him (I had crawfish juice on my fingers), and then this is what I found less than an hour later:

The little sucker. Thanks, Aunt Erin, for stepping in and holding my boy after he decided he did want to nap after all. I nominate you to be responsible for him at next year’s boil.

But wait! Before you accept said duty, just realize this:

He’ll be walking running by then.