“Just one box!”, they said.

girl-scout-cookies-web-jpg

It’s that time of year again, babes.

That’s right. Girl Scout Cookie Season. *Shudder. Covered in patches and flare, with cheesy smiles plastered across their faces, Brownies are keeping guard in front of every store we love and I swear they’ve figured out eCommerce and redirected marketing. We better watch our backs.

In honor of these little green gremlins, I’m re-posting my thoughts that I penned this same time last year.

Since we’re human and we’re destined for growth, my thoughts have evolved a little bit since last year’s post, but the heart of the sentiment is the same:

They’re ruining our lives. 

I can say this with 100% confidence because, update: I’m now a married gal who no longer has to fit in her wedding dress in five months, and y’all, this year I fell victim to THE THIN MINTS.

You know things are bad when you start referring to them as THE Thin Mints, much like my mother refers to Facebook as THE Facebook.

After my husband fell victim in the fall to the $40 popcorn sold by Boy Scouts, I told him, “We’re empowering women, growing their confidence and supporting entrepreneurship. I’m buying the cookies.

Damnit. 

Check out last year’s post below and then sign up for the support group I’ve recently started; raise your hand if you’ve ever been personally victimized by Regina George… or a Girl Scout.

2016 Girl Scout Cookie Rant: 

Can we take a break from the blatant intolerance for the opinions of others (ahem, political circus 2016) and recognize who the real threat is here?

GIRL SCOUTS.

Thin Mints. Tagalongs. Do-si-freaking-dos.

They’re everywhere. And they’re exercising their superpowers to pin point critical moments of weakness during your day/week. They travel in packs & charm you with their cute title of “Brownie” and their fresh faces. They have their sweet little hand drawn signs & chaperones to keep up the facade of innocence.

They emerge when many of us are waning on our New Year’s resolutions or trying to exercise discipline during the season of Lent. Their patches are actually vulnerability scanners- “See the redhead at 2:00? This girl is getting married this year & wants to feel good in her wedding dress- she’s over eating kale & berries- we’ve got a Stage 5 Sucker on our hands, ladies. SIC ‘EM!”

“Just one box!”, they said. “They’re only available once a year”, they said. While the rest of the country is preoccupied with slinging insults at each other over perspective and political opinion, Girl Scouts are plotting the collapse of the human race (no, really).

Because who has ever dared to make eye contact with a Girl Scout and not walked away with a case of goods? One moment you’re running out for body wash & after you’ve spent $50 on said “body wash” at that store that shall remain nameless, you find yourself in a precarious situation where you’ve purchased copious amounts of Thin Mints (because they freeze oh-so-well) and are left wondering where to hide them before your significant other returns home.

They create the dependency and then withhold the goods from you until the next year when you have no choice but to come crawling back for more.

That’s one hell of a business plan.

But no more. From now on it’s sunglasses on, hood up, headphones in, and a full hustle until the coast is clear.

damien

Knees to chest, people- no stopping & no making eye contact. No water breaks- just push through.

Stripping us of our cash & our dignity one sugary morsel at a time. Pssssh. Despicable.
Consider yourselves in the same category as “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named”… Aka “The Dark Lord”.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have boxes to unload.

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