Step 1. Pick an unmemorable, nondescript location, like a depressing Chick-fil-A in West Virginia, that serves non-organic, non-grass-fed, non-local ice cream that can barely be classified as ice cream since they suspiciously call it, “Icedream.”
Step 2. Surprise your spouse by giving him no warning that you’re purchasing an ice cream cone for your toddler that is roughly the same size as her head. Witness his initial dismay and subsequent weary look that conveys he believes this to be a Very Bad Idea. Also, make sure you’re not/not the parent positioned directly next to the toddler so as to avoid all Icedream contact or cleanup responsibilities.
Step 3. Hand ice cream cone to toddler. Appreciate toddler’s “I’ll try anything” attitude and white-knuckle grip.
Step 4. Watch toddler experience confusion, uncertainty and self-doubt.
Step 5. See a wave of slow acceptance and your toddler’s realization that whatever this Icedream is, it appears to be a promising addition to Chicken Nugget Nights.
Step 6. Nom, nom, nom, nom.
Step 7. Witness pure toddler joy unfold, coupled with increasing spousal anxiety about Icedream structural failure.
Step 8. See spouse interrupt gleeful ice cream cone consumption to implore toddler to place unconsumed Icedream in leftover plastic container.
Step 9. Assure toddler that ice cream cone will be transported responsibly back home in said plastic container and secured in the freezer.
Step 10. Watch spouse throw plastic container full of Icedream in garbage can on the way to the car. Agree that this was the best course of action. Cheer toddler’s lack of short-term memory.
Epilogue. Curse Chick-fil-A and whatever is in their “Icedream” when your toddler wakes up the next morning with explosive diarrhea. Suspect lactose intolerance issue but inconclusive if Icedream even has any dairy in it. Acknowledge that spouse was correct; this was a Very Bad Idea.