i scream you scream

On Saturday night, we joined Grandma and Grandpa for dinner at Fuzzy's Taco Shop. My shrimp quesadilla was perfection, and in general their food hits the spot at the right price. Britton, however, was more intent on drinking her body weight in lemonade. So we decided that since it was still early, let's reward the picky non-eating of dinner with some dessert. We try not to associate dinner with dessert because I really don't want to raise a kid who gets the crazy eyes if dessert isn't available. My mom always had dessert for us after dinner, and years later when she tried to get all healthy on us and offer fruit there was quite the coup. I'm not going to get into details, but it was pretty ugly in the kitchen for a while.

But I digress. We headed out to Dairy Queen - Britton's first trip to the DQ. The hub and I are big fans of soft serve, especially when it is covered in sauces galore. Grandma and I stood in the long line to order, and when it came my turn I ordered Britton a small cone and myself a butterscotch-dipped cone. Yum. I was practically drooling all over the counter at this point. And you know what the cashier of broken dreams told me? "We don't have butterscotch. Haven't had it for years." My spirit defeated, I stammered and then went ahead and ordered a Peanut Buster Parfait, with peanut butter sauce added. Same cashier gave me a look like I was making things up again and said, "We don't have peanut butter sauce."

Now, I know I'm not losing my mind because the Peanut Buster Parfait with the addition of (not instead of) peanut butter sauce was my go-to order in West Virginia. Not proud to admit it, but the hub and I had a stretch of time when I was pregnant where DQ always sounded like a good idea.

I finally gave up and just got the parfait MINUS PEANUT BUTTER SAUCE and ordered everyone else's goodies too.

Britton of course needed to try Grandma's sundae before eating her cone...