It's that time.
That time of the year.
We had been doing so well.
Then around rolls this time.
This time of the year.
This time of the year when Girl Scout cookies are delivered.
Does it happen in your house too?
Wendy buys Girl Scout cookies from mothers. I buy Girl Scout cookies from fathers. Such are the demographics of our respective places of employment.
We don't coordinate our purchases. We just order what we like. We have overlaps in favorites but other selections are more individually tailored.
One of the order sheets this year had a special column. (Yes, that's right. I order cookies from more than one father. Can't be helped, no it cannot.) The special column was for purchasing cookies, type unspecified, to send to the American soldiers in Iraq.
If I wasn't such a greedy Girl Scout cookie loving piglet, I would have sent them all the boxes I purchased. But I am, so I didn't send them all. Just half. Seemed a good compromise at the time. Now I know better. We cannot, absolutely cannot, eat all of these cookies. Anyone out there in need of cookies?
There's this box of Samoas sitting here taunting me. My Samoas speak with a deep throaty voice and they laugh alot.
Something tells me I'll get the last laugh.