The honest version, in plain words
Most privacy pages are written by lawyers so nobody reads them. Ours is written the way we talk, and it tells you everything — including the parts a company might rather skip. If anything here is unclear or looks wrong, email us and a real person answers.
Last updated August 20, 2026. When this page changes, we change this date and say what changed at the bottom.
When you book a party, you give us your name, the party address, your phone or email, the date, and your flavor picks. That goes to exactly two places: an email to our dad, Mark, who runs the deliveries, and our own bookings database, so we do not lose track of whose party is when.
We use it to run your rental and for nothing else. We do not sell it, rent it, or hand it to advertisers — not now, not ever. Nobody outside our family reads it except the companies that carry it for us (our website host, Cloudflare, delivers the email), and they are not allowed to use it for themselves.
The form also tells us how your visit found us — the page you landed on and the pages you looked at during that one visit. That is stored in your browser only while the tab is open, uses no cookie, and comes to us attached to your booking so we can learn which of our marketing actually works.
Only if you book · Never soldThe first time you visit, a little bar at the bottom of the page asks whether we can use cookies and analytics. If you say no, or your browser sends the Global Privacy Control signal, none of this loads and no tracking cookie is ever set. The site works exactly the same either way.
If you say yes, here is the whole truth about what happens: a tool called PostHog sets a cookie in your browser and records which pages you read, what you tap, what kind of device you have, roughly what city you are in (from your internet connection, not GPS), and a replay of how you moved around the page. On the booking form, the boxes with your name, address, and phone are masked, so the replay never contains them. We use all of this to learn which pages work and which of our marketing brings real visitors — two kids learning to run a business on real numbers.
PostHog holds this data for us and can only use it to do that job. We do not sell it, and we do not share it with ad companies. If that ever changes — for example, if we start running ads that use our visitor lists — we will say so here first and give you a clear way to say no.
That button deletes our record of your answer and everything the analytics cookie stored, then asks you fresh. Saying no is really no: the tracking tool never loads.
Optional · Off until you say yes · GPC honoredOur server counts every visit the way a shop counts people coming through the door: which page, what kind of browser, which country, and whether the visitor was a person or a robot (search engines and AI assistants visit constantly). This uses no cookies and stores no IP addresses — it cannot recognize you, it can only count you. It is how we spot problems and see whether robots are reading pages meant only for our family.
Everyone · No cookies · No IP storedThis business is run by kids, so we thought about this more than most websites do.
The arcade games have no accounts, no chat, no way to type your name, and screen recording is switched off on every game page. High scores are saved in your own browser, on your own device, and never sent to us. Game pages never set cookies and never save anything about you — not even if you said yes to cookies on the rest of the site. The only thing a game page does is add one anonymous tick to a counter, like a turnstile: “someone opened this game.” It cannot tell whether that someone was you, and that is on purpose. Because there is nothing to say yes or no to, game pages do not show the cookie question at all.
The booking form asks for a home address and phone number, which is grown-up information — a parent should be the one filling it in. There is a US law about kids' information online called COPPA, and our setup here is something our dad reviews with that law in mind (the honest state of that review is written up in our public build notes).
Privacy laws like California’s and Texas’s mostly apply to companies far bigger than a two-kid slushie stand. We follow the spirit of them anyway, because they are just good manners written down. Email hello@slushsisters.com and within 45 days we will:
We will never treat you differently for asking. And to say the big one plainly: we do not sell your personal information, and we never have.
Changes to this page. August 20, 2026 — first version published. Before this, the cookie bar linked to a privacy page that did not exist yet, which was our mistake; this is that page, and the cookie bar's wording was tightened at the same time so it says exactly what happens. Later the same day: game pages became completely cookieless — they now only count plays anonymously, save nothing in your browser, and no longer show the cookie question.