While we were in New Orleans last week, we all got snoballs. While for Cate and Meg that meant colorful, sugar-loaded shaved ice, for Blythe it meant plain shaved ice.
We put a small amount of the ice on a spoon, she opened up, we put it in her mouth, and…
We tried repeatedly, and though she kept willingly taking bites, I think she was a little off-put by the cold.
She may not be a fan now, but I have a feeling in a couple years when she can have the syrup over it, she’ll been won over by the delights of a snoball on a hot summer day.