Tybee Island, Georgia
Generational advice re crab cracking for kids
When I was in high school I had a friend that would only eat snow crab legs if her mom would do the work to extricate the crab meat. I would watch her dipping it in butter and think, “I’d never do that for a big kid. If my kids are lucky enough to eat crab legs, they can get the meat out.” I tested that vow last weekend. Now I can see why my friend’s mom controlled the crab cracking. I paid $40 at lunch for my ten-year-old to eat snow crab legs at Tybee Island, GA’s Crab Shack, a legit low-country seafood restaurant overlooking shrimp boats and alligator-packed marshes. After scavenging his half-picked crab legs, I felt tired, and my stomach was mostly empty but I had no appetite. Both of my sons loved the food, and I recommend the atmosphere but avoid crab cracking with kids.
Crankypants you say, “How is he supposed to learn if you don’t let him try?” I sound cranky but I was feeling a lot of gratitude that day. On Thursday night Hurricane Helene left the people of Georgia without power or gas. We live about 1.5 hours from Tybee Island but our area was not effected by the hurricane. We saw crews clearing the fallen branches from the road but no other damage.
I asked the kids if they wanted to visit the Tybee Island Lighthouse noting that it may not have power. My older son asked, “Then is it just the Tybee Island House?” As we stood in line to buy tickets, the conversation flowed about where to buy gas and which gas stations had lines. I didn’t mention I hadn’t checked my gas tank before we drove to the barrier island.
A gentleman reading a Robert Ludlum paperback gave us a list of instructions for climbing the spiral stairs and claimed that there were 178 steps. As I confirmed that no one listened to the instructions, the boys expressed doubt over the number of steps. They decided to count the stairs, then lost count, and started over from the bottom.
I’ve scaled many lighthouses in my day but I’ve never seen signage that says “PLEASE ONLY TAKE A BAG IF YOU ARE GOING TO VOMIT.” At the top one of my kids pretended to throw up over the balcony railing and the other said, “Please only take a bag if you are going to vomit.” The emphasis entertained me with it’s fresh meaning.
The boys asked me if they could make paper airplanes out of the museum pamphlet to throw off the balcony. There didn’t seem to be a rule against it so I agreed as long as we picked up the litter. First we crumbled a corner of the pamphlet into a ball and watched it fall 145 feet to the keeper’s house below. Then, we launched 4 tiny paper airplanes at far-away targets. They all landed next to the crumbled piece of paper except for one that “went farther than any man in our family’s history has ever thrown a paper airplane.”
Our tickets included passes to a “battery garland” across the street. We couldn’t find the entrance so we went to the Aquarium gift shop on the beach. I pretended to shop while basking in the A/C. The boys hit each other with the stuffed animal dolphins. I pretended that wasn’t happening. It was a morning of lax parenting.
Next, we headed to Fort Pulaski which was closed due to the storm. Parking by the entrance, I gave them an oral history of Mr. Pulaski, a brave 1700s Polish man that traveled to fight in our Revolutionary War. I said, “Pulaski sailed the ocean for two months to show George Washington how he was the best horse rider in the world. You complained about the 90-minute car ride here.” I simplified the historical bits but they won’t fact-check me.
On the way home we discussed a bully at school and I said, “Remember kids: hurt people hurt people.” One of my kids replied, “All I hear is two commands.” Again, the emphasis entertained me with it’s fresh meaning.