A word of advice on ice cream cakes...

They’re made from ice cream. They’re not really cakes. So when your lovely friends pay you a visit and hand-deliver a beautifully decorated red ice cream cake, you have to put it in the freezer. If you put it in the fridge, your poor unsuspecting husband will pad down the hallway the next morning, at the crack of dawn, to find a trail of red dye flowing across the floor. At first, his heart will stop, as he suspects his beloved has been stabbed. He’ll then follow the trail of “blood” that has leaked right up to your office door, to the pool of it deposited near the bottom of the fridge door. He’ll cautiously open the fridge, suspecting he’ll find the remains of your chopped up body, only to discover a mound of what used to be a cake. An ice cream cake.

You will then receive an email from him later that morning, stating: “Jesus. (Quit calling me Jesus...) Ice cream cakes are made out of frozen ice cream. Operative word here being frozen. They must go in the FREEZER. I damn near had a heart attack this morning. I was on my hands and knees for 25 minutes in an attempt to wipe up a 15-foot train of red ice cream juice. I thought someone had been stabbed and bled out on the kitchen floor.”

You will then pee your pants from laughing too hard, because your bladder can no longer handle this level of excitement. You will then thank Jesus that your husband woke up before you, thus saving you from mopping it up. You will also come to the sad realization that if somewhere along the way, you've incorporated the term "bled out" to your nomenclature for baseline communication, then you've likely watched far too many episodes of Breaking Bad and The Wire. The end.