The smell of boiled crawfish filled the Louisiana kitchen, mixing with steam rising from the big silver pot. The wooden table was covered in newspaper, already stained with seasoning, and piled high with bright red crawfish, steaming potatoes, and golden corn.

Gage sat on his knees, eyes wide as he stared at the mound of crawfish in front of him. His little brother wiggled in his high chair, smacking the tray while Daddy leaned back with a grin, beer in hand.

Momma rolled up her sleeves. “Alright, cher, time to learn how to peel a crawfish.”

Gage hesitated. “What if I mess up?”

Momma laughed, grabbing a fat crawfish. “Ain’t no wrong way, long as you get the meat out. But I’ll show you the right way.”

She held the crawfish up. “First, grab it where the head and tail meet—right here. Now twist.”

With a quick motion, she popped off the head. “Some folks suck the head for the good juices.”
Gage gagged. “Ew, no way!”

Daddy chuckled. “More for me, then!”

Momma shook her head, smiling. “Alright, suit yourself. Now, pinch the end of the tail, squeeze a little, and pull.”

She slid out the perfect piece of meat and dipped it in butter. “See? Easy.”

Gage copied her, his fingers fumbling at first—twist, pinch, pull. Out came the juicy meat. “I did it!”

Momma clapped. “That’s my boy! Now try it.”
He dipped it in the butter and took a bite. His face lit up. “Mmm! That’s good!”
His little brother babbled, reaching for the pile. Daddy laughed. “Looks like we got another crawfish lover.”
The kitchen filled with laughter as they peeled and ate, passing corn and potatoes around. Gage wiped his hands and reached for another. “Momma, I think I’m getting good at this.”
Momma ruffled his hair. “Told you, cher. Crawfish season ain’t just about eatin’. It’s about family.”
And that night, under the warm glow of their Cajun kitchen, Gage became a true crawfish peeler.


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Momma eating crawfish, in the Kitchen, while gage watches with excitement. 

Momma eating crawfish, in the Kitchen, while Gage watches with excitement. 

The Big Crawfish Boil

Momma sits at a newspaper-covered table with her sleeves rolled up, holding a bright red crawfish. Gage sits beside her, biting his lip nervously as he looks at the pile of crawfish. The kitchen table is covered with newspaper and piled high with steaming red crawfish.

"Time to learn how to peel a crawfish, cher," Momma said, rolling up her sleeves. Gage bit his lip nervously, looking at the pile of red shells. "What if I mess up?" he whispered. Momma just laughed and grabbed a fat crawfish from the pile.

Learning to Peel

Gage sits at the newspaper-covered table, fingers awkwardly holding a crawfish as he tries to peel it. Momma demonstrates the technique with her hands nearby. Dad stands watching with a proud smile. Laine sits in his high chair clapping, with bits of potato scattered around him. Steam rises from the pile of bright red crawfish on the table.

"Twist the head, then pinch the tail," Momma demonstrated with quick, practiced hands. Gage's fingers fumbled as he tried to copy her movements. Dad cheered when he finally pulled out a tiny piece of meat. Laine clapped his hands, sending bits of potato flying across the table.

The First Try

Under the kitchen table, a black Labrador named Smoke sits with his head resting on Gage's knee, looking up with hopeful eyes. Gage is secretly lowering his hand with a piece of crawfish. Momma is discreetly slipping a small piece of potato to Smoke. The floor is littered with a few fallen crawfish shells.

Smoke, their black Lab, appeared under the table, tail wagging hopefully. "No crawfish for dogs," Dad reminded as Gage tried to sneak a piece down. Smoke rested his head on Gage's knee with sad eyes. Momma slipped him a small piece of potato when Dad wasn't looking.

Smoke Joins the Party

Gage sits at the table proudly holding up a perfectly peeled crawfish tail. His pile of empty shells shows his progress. Laine reaches from his high chair with chubby fingers toward the crawfish. Dad leans over showing Laine a soft potato piece instead. The table is covered with newspaper and crawfish, with empty shells piling up.

By his fifth crawfish, Gage was peeling like a pro. "Look Momma, I'm fast now!" he exclaimed, proudly holding up perfect tail meat. Laine squealed, trying to grab crawfish with his chubby fingers. Dad showed him how to eat the soft potatoes instead.

Getting the Hang of It

Dad leans toward Gage demonstrating how to suck the head of a crawfish. Gage's face is scrunched up in disgust while everyone around the table laughs. Smoke circles the table with his nose in the air, sniffing the spicy scents. The table is covered with newspaper and partially eaten crawfish.

"Want to know a secret?" Dad leaned over, showing Gage how to suck the head. Gage made a disgusted face that sent everyone laughing. "More flavor for us," Dad winked at Momma. Smoke circled the table, nose twitching at the spicy scents.

The Secret Technique

Momma carefully holds a tiny piece of crawfish meat for Laine, whose eyes are wide with surprise at the new flavor. His face is already smeared with sauce. Dad holds up a smartphone to take a photo of the moment. Gage watches with a big smile, pointing at his little brother's reaction.

Momma carefully removed all shells and gave Laine a tiny piece of crawfish meat. His eyes widened in surprise at the new flavor. "He likes it!" Gage announced as Laine smacked his lips. Dad took a photo of Laine's sauce-covered face.

Laine's First Taste

The family sits around the table with piles of crawfish shells in front of them. Dad gestures with his hands as he tells a story, eyes twinkling. Momma smiles nostalgically. Gage listens with rapt attention, chin resting on his hands. The warm kitchen light creates a cozy atmosphere as evening falls outside the window.

As they ate, Dad told stories about crawfish boils from his childhood. "Your grandpa could peel faster than anyone in the parish," he said, eyes twinkling. Momma added tales of catching crawfish in the bayou with her brothers. Gage listened, imagining himself wading through muddy waters.

Stories Around the Table

Dad and Gage sit across from each other at the table, hands poised over crawfish, ready to race. Momma watches with an amused smile. Laine bangs a spoon on his high chair tray like a timekeeper. Smoke barks excitedly from the side. Piles of crawfish wait to be peeled as the competition begins.

"Let's have a peeling race," Dad challenged, eyes twinkling with mischief. Gage sat up straight, ready to compete against Momma's expert hands. Smoke barked excitedly as they counted down from three. Laine banged his spoon, serving as the official timekeeper.

The Crawfish Race

The family works together cleaning up after the meal. Gage carefully rolls newspaper filled with crawfish shells. Dad rinses the large silver pot at the sink. Momma gently wipes sauce from Laine's face with a washcloth. Smoke watches attentively from his spot by the door. The kitchen shows signs of the feast with a few stray shells and the lingering smell of spices.

When the pile had dwindled to shells, they worked together to clean up. Gage helped roll the newspaper with its spicy remains while Dad rinsed the pot. Momma wiped sauce from Laine's cheeks and hands. Smoke supervised from his spot by the door.

Clean-Up Crew

The family sits around the table with a plate of golden-brown pralines at the center. Dad pats his full belly with a contented smile. Laine's eyes droop sleepily in his high chair. Gage licks the last bit of sweetness from his fingers. The kitchen is clean now, with just the dessert plate on the table and soft evening light coming through the window.

For dessert, Momma brought out homemade pralines that melted in their mouths. "Perfect ending to a perfect meal," Dad sighed contentedly, patting his full belly. Laine's eyes drooped as the excitement of the day caught up with him. Gage licked the last bit of sweetness from his fingers.

Sweet Ending

Momma hugs Gage tightly beside the clean kitchen counter as he holds a dried pot. Her expression is full of pride. Dad can be seen in the background carrying a sleeping Laine to bed. Smoke follows at Dad's heels, looking back at Momma and Gage. The kitchen is clean and dimly lit, with the crawfish pot now spotless.

As Gage helped dry the last pot, Momma hugged him tight. "You're a true crawfish peeler now, cher," she whispered proudly. Dad carried a sleeping Laine to bed while Smoke followed at his heels. Gage knew he'd remember this night forever—his first real crawfish boil as a big boy.