Girl Scouts
Let me just start off by saying DAMN YOU! Damn you and your delicious cookies. I like not being the size of a killer whale, and girl scout cookies definitely aid the killer whale state. I've suddenly discovered girl scouts everywhere. Little girls, wearing their adorable uniforms and looking so badly like they want to win the most boxes sold prize, accost me when I walk into town. And they're at the supermarket, too, behind tables, being watched by mothers with laser beam eyes. Their expressions say, "Are you trying to rip of my child?!" SCHZAP! No, lady, these succulent cookies are worth my $3. It's like an episode of the Twilight Zone, and the music's playing and I turn. And surprise! There's another girl scout, lurking behind me. Worst of all, my dorm head had free girl scout cookies. There is only so much one girl can resist, and free cookies are not one of those things. Lead me not into temptation, I already know the way!
My confession is this: I was a girl scout, in my younger days. I went to the supply store, bought the hideously uncomfortable uniform and badge belt-thing. I have written a short poem about my experience:
Enraptured by the patches on the wall,
I swore that I would earn them all.
I went to meetings every Sunday,
While other children were asleep or at play.
When it came time to sell, I was filled with joy.
Hurray for girl scouts, it sucks to be a boy!
A cookie seller I would be!
I knew this was my destiny.
Around I went, with a doe-eyed gaze,
I was at that age, the adorable phase.
And cookies most delicious I did sell,
About this, I am proud to tell.
But alas, sickness visited upon me,
For I ate eight boxes of cookies.
This is no lie. I sold a prodigious amount of cookies, but fell prey to their enticements, and bought myself eight boxes with a fallen, rolled up wad of drug money I found on the street the week before. $66, I kid you not. Girl scouts and I parted ways a year later, because I like sleep a lot, and going to both church and girl scouts was beginning to wear on me. I roughed it in the woods a few times, made some macaroni necklaces, earned some patches, and called it a day.
So it is actually with joy that I purchase girl scout cookies. There are worse things to gain weight because of, and who doesn't want to be reminded of childhood excellence? I see a bit of myself in the doe-eyed girls behind the tables, and I am more than willing to fork over my money for Thin Mints. I wonder why I torture myself in this way, eating the cookies and then regretting it, but then I eat another Thin Mint and remember. So, go and earn your badges, children, but know that eating girl scout cookies is far superior to actually being a girl scout.
My confession is this: I was a girl scout, in my younger days. I went to the supply store, bought the hideously uncomfortable uniform and badge belt-thing. I have written a short poem about my experience:
Enraptured by the patches on the wall,
I swore that I would earn them all.
I went to meetings every Sunday,
While other children were asleep or at play.
When it came time to sell, I was filled with joy.
Hurray for girl scouts, it sucks to be a boy!
A cookie seller I would be!
I knew this was my destiny.
Around I went, with a doe-eyed gaze,
I was at that age, the adorable phase.
And cookies most delicious I did sell,
About this, I am proud to tell.
But alas, sickness visited upon me,
For I ate eight boxes of cookies.
This is no lie. I sold a prodigious amount of cookies, but fell prey to their enticements, and bought myself eight boxes with a fallen, rolled up wad of drug money I found on the street the week before. $66, I kid you not. Girl scouts and I parted ways a year later, because I like sleep a lot, and going to both church and girl scouts was beginning to wear on me. I roughed it in the woods a few times, made some macaroni necklaces, earned some patches, and called it a day.
So it is actually with joy that I purchase girl scout cookies. There are worse things to gain weight because of, and who doesn't want to be reminded of childhood excellence? I see a bit of myself in the doe-eyed girls behind the tables, and I am more than willing to fork over my money for Thin Mints. I wonder why I torture myself in this way, eating the cookies and then regretting it, but then I eat another Thin Mint and remember. So, go and earn your badges, children, but know that eating girl scout cookies is far superior to actually being a girl scout.
posted by Meredith at 9:47 AM
2 Comments:
So Mer, my sister is selling cookies, you want some? ;)
How could you even ask me that? Of COURSE I do!
I want 2 boxes of Thin Mints and a box of those coconut/chocolately things (Samoas, are they called?).
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