It’s National Ice Cream Cone Day

Life is short—dangerously, alarmingly short—so naturally, the most logical course of action is to eat dessert first. Always. No appetizers, no vegetables masquerading as “part of a balanced meal,” no sensible portions of anything vaguely nutritious. Just dessert. Pure, unadulterated, guilt-free dessert. A Drumstick sounds particularly appealing at this moment—you know, those delightful ice cream cones with the chocolate-covered waffle exterior and the surprising almond surprise lurking at the bottom like a frozen treasure hunt. Or perhaps an ice cream sandwich? Those perfectly engineered slabs of cold sweetness cradled between two cake-like cookies, designed by someone who clearly understood the assignment of pleasure. Baskin-Robbins, of course, is the gold standard for such endeavors. Thirty-one flavors of possibilities, each one more tempting than the last. My youngest son actually had the audacity to work there once—which means he possessed firsthand knowledge of every frozen confection known to humanity and the wisdom (or weakness) to not consume them all in one sitting. Right? Surely that’s how willpower works when you’re surrounded by mountains of frozen sugar all day long.