Last week I was fortunate enough to spend a long holiday as the guest of some very generous friends who have a house in Anguilla, in the British West Indies. One evening we were discussing wildlife on the island, and my friend Lauren said, “My mom says there are crabs on the island that are big enough to steal puppies!”
“What?” My husband said in disbelief.
“It’s true!” Lauren said. “At least, my mom says so. They make a noise like this. ‘Shhhooo, shhooo, shhooo.’” She demonstrated this sound while making a motion that looks a little like the breast stroke.
We may have had some tropical drinks earlier that day.
Anyway, we went to bed, and the next morning I awoke to a tapping sound. I assumed it was my husband puttering around. The tapping continued, and since there aren’t too many activities Steve can do in the morning that involve tapping, I pulled off my sleep mask (yes, I use one; they’re awesome, look into one) to see what was up.
Steve wasn’t in the room, however. I climbed out of bed to see what could be causing the sound. In retrospect I don’t know why I should have expected anything other than what I saw, which was a big crab tapping at my window.
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