Monday, January 16, 2012

Girl Scout Cookies - A Fathers Involvement

I think that moms, and women in general, get a bad rap when it comes to Girl Scout cookies. While I'm sure they are laced with either crack or meth because they are so habit forming, this addiction does not limit itself to women alone. I have often found myself sitting at my desk, working on a project, and realize that an entire sleeve of Thin Mints lies empty before me. (On a side note, who is the cruel bastard that included the word "Thin" when naming a cookie?!) Men are just as guilty of craving these little 160 calorie pieces of sugar induced ecstasy. Ecstasy noun \ˈek-stə-sē\, a trance or trance-like state in which an individual transcends normal consciousness. Girl Scout cookies can do that to a person.

This past fall M got involved with Dasies and brought home her sheet in order to go out and start selling. Not only did I realize that I would going to be able to get my fix of Samoas, Thin Mints, and Do-si-dos, I came to the horrible realization that I would be recruited as a minion to sell this drug to unsuspecting customers.

"Yo! Ova'ere...I gotch 'ya Tagalongs you've been cravin'."

Sometimes the most aggressive sales techniques are the most successful.

M's mom and I decided to set a goal of 100 boxes that we would work on selling. We didn't want M to see the prize list because we didn't want her to be upset if she picked out something (which would inevitably be an iPod touch since she wants one like her mom and I have) and be disappointed with herself if she didn't reach that goal. Shes 6 - what do you want from us? Let her be disappointed that we're her parents when shes older and allow her some happiness now.

There's something about a scout's cookie order form that brings joy and sorrow into the hearts of many. Joy, because you know you're about to order and get your fix. Sorrow, because you know that the case of cookies that you ordered is really for you and not the "Christmas presents" you claim you will give them out as. Its typical of those with addictive behavior - lying about the truth to make yourself feel less ashamed. The good thing about Girl Scout cookies is that it doesn't take 12 weeks of rehab to get over it and your dealer doesn't come around every week. Lindsay Lohan should be so lucky.

In the end, M ended up selling around 150 boxes of cookies with her mom and I buying 2 cases (don't judge me!).

And as I close, I look over into the living room and see on the floor an empty wrapper from a sleeve of Do-si-does the wife and I ate while watching CSI:NY. It lay there as if it were discarded underwear from a nameless lover, taken home from the bar, in order that you could enjoy a guilty night of fornication. The shame in seeing it lying there was about the same.

At least Girl Scout cookies won't give you the clap.

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