Today I ordered Subway online and 15 minutes later I hopped in the car to go grab it. As I drove up to the street that leads out of our development, figures began to appear up ahead. Some were only 4′ while a couple must have been my height. 2 pulled something behind them.
‘OH…MY….GOD!’ I thought in my head but out loud I exclaimed, “it’s the daughters of satan!”
Girl Scouts. And it wasn’t just 1 girl scout. It was the entire fuckin’ troop and they had infiltrated the neighborhood. I thought this was my friend’s territory since her daughter is a girl scout. Obviously I was wrong.
When I returned home, I made sure to alert my family.
“Boys, the girl scouts are in the neighborhood selling….” I stopped mid-sentence to take in their giddy grins. “Don’t look at me like that. They have cookies and I can’t eat those things when I’m tryin’ to lose weight for L.A.”
“Yeah but 1 box,” P started.
“No! No cookies!” I interrupted. “Now go lock the door in case they roll up.”
I forgot about the threat and headed up stairs to finish cleaning. I peered out my bedroom window, hiding behind the drapes while I ensured the homestead was safe.
“Nothing,” I said with a sigh of relief.
Because my 9-year-old’s cleaning skills are on par with a TLC Hoarder, I said I would help him clean his room, and so I did for the next 45 minutes. Just as I was removing a Lil’ Debbie nutty bar from the ass of a Build a Bear, wearing a karate uniform, I heard the doorbell ring.
“Don’t answer that!” I yelled down. It was too late however. In a last-ditch effort to obtain “the cookie”, P opened the door. He knew I wouldn’t openly beat him in front of a girl scout, hence the daring move.
“Oh mooooommmmm…..” he yelled up in a sing-song voice. “It’s a girl scout!”
“Damn it!” I said under my breath. I pulled the clip out of my hair, shook my hair and began descending downstairs.
“Daughters of satan,” I hissed under my breath as I stomped down each step. I immediately switched the frustration to a big fat, fake smile and flung open the door. Before me was a darling, sweet 10-year-old girl smiling. I looked over her shoulder to see a neighbor I recognized along with another smiling mom. Great, I know the mom. Now I have to buy the stupid cookies.
“Ummmm, would you like to buy some girl scout cookies? The smores and samoas are $5 while the rest of the cookies,” she inhaled a deep breath as she was talking so fast she struggled to get all her words out, “are $4. Would you like to buy some?”
And so the cookie negotiations began.
“Ok, I’ll take 1 box of Samoans, I mean Samoas, not the people. I don’t want people. And lemme see what my husband wants,” I said as I left the girl scout out front. 30 seconds later I returned.
“Ok, my husband wants those fudge stripped cookies,” I said. They looked at me funny. Did I commit a cookie faux pas?
“I don’t think those are girl scout cookies,” one of the moms yelled over. You could tell she felt sorry for my stupidity. “I think those are Keeblers,” she said.
“You know, I think your right. Oh my God, he wants a store-bought cookie,” I said, acting appalled. “What do you have that is chocolate and peanut butter?”
She pulled out a box of Tagalongs and Do-si-dos.
“Ok, can I borrow these for a sec? I want to show my husband.” She obliged and I walked in and stood in front of my husband and his soccer game.
“Ok, the cookies you want are store-bought. I asked for something that is peanut butter and chocolate and they gave me Tagalongs,” I said as I held the box in front of him. “They’re really good. I’ve had them. They also had do-si-dos,” I said as I presented the second box. “Do-si-dos have peanut butter and oatmeal….ok definitely not the Do-si-dos.” My husband and I have a mutual understanding that oatmeal has no business being in a cookie and the minute I saw oatmeal, I knew it was a deal breaker. We settled on 2 boxes of Tagalongs.
I walked back out to my porch. The girl scout was still there but now 2 leaders along with one of the wagons were in the street. I shit you not, a black car with tinted windows had driven up, stopped and had their window down. The girl scouts were performing a drive by cookie deal, in front of my home.
“Wow, it’s an actual drive by,” I yelled over to one of the moms sarcastically. She fake laughed me, completely focused on gaining a new follower in the cookie deal. Pissed at being ignored, I yelled over,
“And this is why I always say my dealer is 4′ tall
Here is this evening’s text with a mother of my son’s friend: