ice cream face

On the way home from a baby checkup, we stopped for ice cream. Sebastian was napping in the carrier and was likely to wake up when we got home, so staying out would give that poor second child some much needed sleep. That's how I justified it anyway because I think I'd already eaten a chocolate bar and it must have been hardly midday (... oops... really I think I'll do better when we moved to Texas because deep-fried twinkies don't seem to be quite as tempting).

Now, my German's bad, but I've ordered ice cream in plenty of countries where I didn't speak the language, so no biggie? 

Wrong. The gal behind the counter nodded through my order and then quickly handed me a single cone with David's double chocolate scoop on the bottom and my maracuja sorbet on top. Gross!

Eating my scoop first and then handing it to David was not an option, because watching me eat ice cream without him isn't exactly David's cup of tea. So, amid anxious pleas that threatened to wake the baby we were trying to keep asleep, I managed to scrape my chocolaty maracuja scoop of ice cream into an old pretzel snack cup. Yum.

And the boy was appeased.

And every single passerby smiled when they looked at David because this is how he looks when he eats chocolate ice cream.

So I got over my less-than-awesome sorbet.

And if anyone wants to come help me order ice cream in Germany, you've got just under two months to do it.

Now, I'm hoping Texan is easier than German, because I don't want to avoid ice cream stands for the rest of my life.