It’s that time of year, and Jordan and I currently have EIGHT, count ’em, EIGHT boxes of Girl Scout Cookies in our possession! You’re thinking ah, what suckers, they can’t say no the the uniform patches and the pigtails outside the grocery store, but you’re wrong.
Being teachers we’ve had to learn how to muster up the courage of a sweet “no, thank you” to every girl scout that crosses our path because if we didn’t, we’d have enough girl scout cookies to feed a small village. When you’re a teacher, you just don’t play favorites. So it has to be all or nothing. No cookies, or feed-a-village-cookies. We choose no cookies, for obvious financial and health reasons.
So now you’re thinking, then how the heck did you wind up with EIGHT boxes of girl scout cookies? The answer: thoughtful moms. Moms know we can’t order cookies because we can’t break the hearts of every cute little girl who says, “Mrs.Demos, will you support troop _ _ _”, so instead, thoughtful moms gift us the boxes. And I can’t lie here, we love us some girl scout cookies. And that’s how you wind up with EIGHT boxes of deliciously irresistible girl scout cookies in a two-person home.
Which all leads me to the irony of Thin Mints. You know I feel good when I eat them…because they’re called Thin Mints. I think, ooh I’m just going to have this thiiiin little cookie. Look at it. It’s so cute, and thin. Just like me. And before, I know it, I’ve devoured every cute little thin cookie in the box. And let me tell you, there is nothing cute or thin about that. I think every little girl with uniform patches and pigtails laughs silently to herself about this. The girl scouts’ little joke to the world.
Oh, the irony.
