As a little girl, one of my worst fears was that I would trip and drop my ice cream cone on the ground. (Ah, simpler times.)

You know what I mean, right? After some strategic bargaining with your parents (“I will vacuum downstairs twice a week this summer, I SWEAR!”), you’re finally carrying a double scoop of chocolate, smothered in caramel. Sprinkles drip onto your shoes and crunch against the floor as you make your way oh-so-carefully to a table. You only have to make it a few feet, but that’s plenty of time for the intrusive thoughts to take over.

Walk slower! Why are your hands shaking? OMG, the floor is slippery! Please, please, please don’t trip! Just sit down already!

By the time you inch yourself onto a chair, you feel like you just ran a marathon. I don’t know about you, but I much prefer my grown-up knowledge that if my ice cream hits the dirt, I can just get another (no additional vacuuming required).

The funny thing is that I don’t think my kids have ever experienced this brand of fear. Not only because we embrace (and even celebrate) failure, but also because we’re friendly with our local ice cream makers. If—God forbid—the walk from the counter to a table didn’t go as planned, a fresh scoop (and probably a bowl) would be on the way. Laramie knows customer service—and we certainly know ice cream.

My family’s favorite shop in the city is Big Dipper, located in the heart of downtown. Not only do they churn their own ice cream, but they offer homemade gelato and sorbet as well. The secret to all three is precision speed.

The folks at Big Dipper taught me that their cloud-fluff ice cream texture can only be achieved at high churning speeds, while their decadent gelato requires a slower pace. Sorbet falls somewhere in the middle for a blissfully light, fruity treat. Science was never really my thing, but I bet figuring out these perfect churning speeds was the best experiment EVER.

And seriously, what level of commitment is that?! The Big Dipper team doesn’t just serve ice cream—they craft it. Forget that factory-made nonsense. If I really want to treat myself, a scoop of Wyoming Blackbear is the only answer. Even if it wound up on the floor, I think I’d consider eating it. (Does that count as healing your inner child? No? Never mind.)

If you have a party coming up, be sure to call about their custom ice cream cakes. They are *chef’s kiss.* Ugh. Unbeatable. Or, if you want to get really fancy, you can rent an entire ice cream cart, which holds up to eight flavors and over 250 scoops of creamy-dreamy goodness. I mean, is there a better way to celebrate a special occasion with friends and family?

We don’t often think of getting ice cream as a community-building event, but for my family, that’s exactly what it is. A quick serotonin boost and bam—suddenly, you’re in the middle of a conversation with your neighbors. Befriending the ice cream shop owners lowers your kids’ risk of winding up treatless, yes, but more importantly, you get to connect with your city in a new way.

Especially if that city is Laramie. Our small business owners rock.

For the record, this is not an ad. I’m just a local realtor who is passionate about supporting the community. But like, if anyone from Big Dipper is reading this, HMU. Maybe we can trade marketing for Wyoming Blackbear.