Do You Ever Feel Like Cookies Are Staring At You?

Or is it just me?

For the past two years, I successfully turned a blind eye towards Girl Scouts (or their mothers) as they waved their infamous cookie order forms like flags in a Fourth of July parade. I walked the other way (or quite literally, hid) when I saw all the mothers (and once a father) en route to sell me cookies that their daughters should have been approaching me to buy. If by chance I got caught off guard, I’d simply say, “No thanks. I’m sorry. I already bought some from Sophia’s mother.”

Yes, I would lie.

But I’m not a Girl Scout so I won’t lose an honor badge.

**Side note/rant: It always cracks me up how Sophia, (or Daisy or Laura or Claire) doesn’t even know who I am. For all they know (or care), I could be a unicorn hunter–but their moms sell me cookies to boost sales…so…I bet an innocent GS would lie too (GASP!) and pretend to know me when, upon a chance meeting, her mom would prompt, “Honey, remember Mr. Garvert, the one who bought some of your cookies three years ago?” “Say thank you.” 

What happened to actual Girl Scouts (not their parental units) learning to practice the following five important skills stated in plain sight on the cookie box?

1. Goal Setting
2. Decision Making
3. Money Management
4. People Skills
5. Business Ethics

Now, listen. My intent in this mini-rant is not to shame the mothers (or fathers). I know it’s probably not easy having kids AND these cookies. Hell, if I had a Girl Scout, I’d just tell her to keep the cookies in the garage and let Dad eat them. No sales needed!

Okay, I’ll finally let you know where I meant to go with this post quite a while ago. Thanks for hanging in there.

I caved this year. I actually caved. And NOT TO AN ACTUAL GIRL SCOUT, PEOPLE! (Yes, after that pathetic rant, I ended up buying cookies from a mother of a young GS I’ve actually never met and likely never will.)

Here’s how it all went down. Against my better judgement.

I was alone in my classroom-long after the students had left for the day. I was near tears as I tried to plan different ways to manage the twenty minute assessments I must individually administer to 23 kindergarteners while the other 22 kindergarteners are going to be miraculously humming along in their work. Which, if you ever have been in a kindergarten classroom, never happens. Because they are five.

And Jesus wouldn’t fix it. And going for a walk wouldn’t help because it was already too late for that when my car needed gas on the way home, I was to stop at the grocery store, and my dogs were waiting to be let out.

In the midst of my self-pity, guess who walks in? A new-to-our-school teacher…who…(DRUMROLL PLEASE!)… is the mother of a Girl Scout! Smiling a big hello. And she doesn’t just have the order form in her hands. She has the cookies in tow too. (Is this a new sales tactic?) Maybe Jesus is gonna fix this for me?

Instant food gratification and self-soothing were about to take place.

“Two boxes of thin mints, please.”

Zero Fucks Given.

She even accepted cash tomorrow and cookies today. (Second new sales tactic? Are the GS stepping up their game with money management skills?)

Then the new-to-our-school teacher walked out of my classroom. And I ripped open the first roll. And I smelled them. “It’s been a while,” I think to myself. And the taste of the first cookie. Followed by the second, third, fourth, fifth, and…stop. I won’t tell you what all went down that dreadful afternoon at 4:49 p.m. in my lonely classroom after the kids were long gone.

Suddenly, the assessments, planning, chores and what not felt better. More manageable. That last cookie helped me get my coat on to get out of there. Head to the gas station. Groceries. Home.

All thanks to the Girl Scouts of America.

And I helped a kid.

And her mother, for sure.

So now, as I type this, one box of cookies is still staring at me on the kitchen table.

Should I JUST GET IT OVER WITH?