These little guys won't stay out of our house. I finally got a shot of one tonight (once I learned how to work the flash on my camera...I don't think I've used a flash in about five years and definitely not the one on my camera). These little crabs are about the size of my fist when all their legs are extended, but they pack a powerful punch.
After dealing with them, I finally understand why my mom sometimes called me "crabby" when I was a kid. Maybe even now! These crabs are fighters! Ornery little buggers, they are. They scuttle into our house in the evening and scamper sideways across the floor. Libbie backed this one into a corner and it was pretty determined to stay there.
I grabbed the nearest weapon (Brynn's snorkel) and held the mouthpiece in my hand as I tried to guide this little guy out with the other end. I figured I could work it like a cattle prod. Yeah, uh, good try. He fought back! His pincers were going and he was actually pretty strong. He snapped and clawed at that snorkel for a good twenty seconds before I gave up. I moved the table out from the wall and blocked his path with Brynn's flipper. He fought me at first but eventually started doing his little crab shuffle out the door. Wait, what? You don't know the crab shuffle? My kids have been doing it for a few days now...hands up in the air, fingers moving like you're wearing castanets, hips bouncing like a hula dancer as you skitter laterally across the floor. Oh, and be sure you're back's against a wall, a little Jack Bauer move to protect yourself.
So far, we've had two crabs come in through the back door tonight, two last night and I'm assuming many more to come. Maybe once the dry season starts in October they'll find a new home. Or maybe I'll get the nerve to pick them up, stick them in a tank of water, and collect enough for a little crab feast.