My dad used to take night walks when I was little, and if the mood struck him, he would buy me an ice cream cone. This didn’t happen very often, and I still remember how that vanilla tasted.
Now I’m still trying to find ways to use up the fatless, sugarless ice cream in my freezer. It is not the idyllic stuff of my childhood. Trying to cram it into a cone is difficult, and the already imperfect edge of the cone shatters even more.
I am guessing the Argentine ants will also reject it.