Leaving me alone with a can of cream cheese frosting is like leaving a crack addict alone with a stack of crack. Does crack even come in stacks? Whatever. It starts out with dipping my finger in and taking little, okay huge, mouthful of frosting. Then I shove the container back in the fridge and run into the other room. Only to run back into the fridge to reenact this shameful act again. By the third visit to the fridge I just give up, get a spoon and sit myself on the couch. If that isn't shame, I don't know what is.