Tonight while in Prescott, we ordered a hot pretzel for Kajsa. She’d never had one before, and kept babbling on about her ‘pizza’. We could tell that she was excited, but we corrected her “pret-zel, Kajsa!”
When the fellow showed up with this lovely delight along with a side of yummy stone ground mustard, Kajsa was, well, non-plussed. She just looked at it and asked, “Pizza?”
It only took a few bites for her to accept that, although we seemed to be losing our minds, she could handle this bizarre new pastry.