If you want to understand the true wonder of a warm gooey cinnamon roll, just think of a good Saturday morning, wrapped in the dense grip of bed dressings with nowhere to go. The refreshing relief of obligation defied is enough to bring tears to your eyes—tears of joy for the moment and those of anguish, which are sure to follow thoughts of a lamented workweek ahead. It’s best to smell it first, as this heightens the anticipation and readies the senses for a journey into bliss. Just add sugar and you’ve got your roll. We could talk about sex, but that wouldn’t be right. Sex demands something of us, while the cinnamon roll wants nothing. It exceeds the perfect partner, sanguine and content, ever reticent and unwavering in its deference for your delight. Expectation and pressure dispelled, a path is cleared for the purity of selfish indulgence. Dive in. And, after you’re done, go have sex for dessert.