Being an adult is just objectively worse than being a child on every possible level. I cannot afford to live alone, because I have to pay for things, like medicine and electricity, because those are the stupid fucking rules. What few pleasures there are as an adult are either expensive (a nice meal, good recreational drugs) or fundamentally humiliating (the act of sex and the pursuit of it). For adults, summer is no longer a vast expanse of free time and winter — the worst season by far — is mainly devoid of the things that make it fun for children, like sledding and not having to care what you look like in a snowsuit.

I was wallowing in the misery of being an adult in January last night when I had a thought that occurs to me perhaps three times every year: “hey, dumbass, remember that hot chocolate exists? And you could have some right now?”

So that’s what I did! I had a hot chocolate! I’m not sure if you have had one recently but let me tell you, it’s incredible. And, crucially, it’s not even particularly laborious or expensive to make. Even a dirtbag like me tends to have milk on hand, and the cheap powdered mix you can buy basically anywhere still produces a great end product. I had some in my cupboard that came with a gift basket I’d received for Christmas, because adults get gift baskets for Christmas filled with often useless things instead of toys. Rich and warm, the creation of a benevolent deity who wants us to be slightly less depressed. You don’t even need whipped cream and tiny marshmallows for it to be delicious, although who am I judge how you care to indulge in this tasty treat.

“Why don’t I have this all the time?” is what I ask myself every time I have hot chocolate, which as I’ve noted is maybe three times a year because I always forget about its existence and its benefits. I think the answer is that I imagine hot chocolate as solely a drink for children, or I guess Belgians maybe — definitely precocious Belgian children.

How to remedy this association and thus make adults, who are desperate for any minor relief we can get from a cold and uncaring universe that gets crueler and stupider by day, more likely to find comfort in a mug of warm liquid dessert? Ban children from drinking it. Lock that shit down like cigarettes or alcohol. If some profligate parents want to give it to a child then shame them as we would a parent who gives their kid beer. This may require some political will but no issue can bring people of various commitments together like “making life slightly more bearable for adults by giving us something that is solely ours.”

Seriously, fuck those kids, their lives are easy enough. They don’t have bills, or pregnancy scares, or tax audits. They would hardly even miss it. We can lie to kids about why you suddenly need I.D. to purchase it, who are they to argue.

There are so few unambiguously good things that only become available to you as a grown up. Mainly it’s just voting, going to war, and drinking (which, while an excellent privilege, should not be done every night. I think). So give us hot chocolate. Make it for adults only. It is wasted on the already light hearts, and souls, of children.