Bahama Bucks.

I've been trying to get Diego to go there... well, for as long as we have lived in Mesa. So three years. He just was not interested. "But Diego," I'd say, "They have theeee best snow cones in the world. And we live in Phoenix, one of the hottest places on earth. And it's over 100 degrees outside." But no. Nope, it never worked. He was never convinced. We did, however, have company over yesterday - someone who is not from Arizona and was feeling rather hot. I finally convinced everyone to take a trip to Bahama Bucks. "But Josh is acting a little cranky," I thought to myself, "Oh well, he will be happy to go somewhere. He always is." I ordered a small Pina Colada shaved ice with cream. Heaven. It's delicious. Diego takes a bite and says, "Wow that is really good. It's so smooth." Thank you! Have I not been trying to tell you that forever? I give a Josh a little bite and he seems to enjoy it. I scoop another bite for him but he won't take it. That's odd. Josh always wants more. Or "muh" as he says. Fine, more for me then.

Then the explosion! Barf. Barf all over me. Barf all over the table. Barf all over the floor. Barf. Our dear guest was able to swish to the other side of her bench (she was sitting across from me) and avoid getting splashed. Diego ran to the bathroom maybe five times and came back with wet paper towels to clean the mess. Josh screamed hysterically, causing everyone else in the joint to turn around and look at us and see what had just transpired. Dear guest kindly scooted the trash can all the way over to our table to help out. Bless her. Seriously. Everything got cleaned up. Even my pants, that were now soaking wet.

But what do we do now? We couldn't leave our snow cones. We just started eating them and we couldn't take them outside because they would melt instantly in the car. We had to stay and finish. I had to finish in my wet pants. Amidst all of this, I still really loved my snow cone. So freakin' delicious. As we got up to leave, I walked extremely close behind Diego so no one would see the disaster all over me. I wonder what looked more rediculous? My clothes or smashing against Diego all the way to the car? I don't know. We got home (Josh barfed in the car as soon as we pulled into the garage), ran Joshy a bath and I took a quick shower while dear guest waited downstairs. Poor thing.

A couple hours later we went to get dinner at Joe's Farm Grill. Pretty much the exact same thing that happened at Bahama Bucks, happened at Joe's Farm Grill. Only we prepared a little better for this outing; diaper bag with towels, an extra shirt, wipes, water, etc... Still equally horrific.