I hate girl scout cookie season. There, I said it.
The cookies are delicious, I’ll be the first to admit. But it’s such a shameful process from beginning to end. On the one hand, we have children peddling their wares on the streets and in front of grocery stores. And these wares being peddled? They’re the Devil’s food.
Damnit, little girl in your stupid uniform with your ridiculous hat, do you know how much will-power it took me to NOT buy Oreos or Cinnabons while I was just in that damn grocery store? The ONLY way that I can get through that will-sucking exercise is by repeating two things to myself:
1. Raspberries, Blueberries, Greek Yogurt, and Granola all taste JUST as delicious as an Oreo would.
2. I need to buy healthy items so that I can proudly judge people’s contents in their carts at the check-out aisle.
But now that I’ve stepped outside, guilt-free and my self-righteous judgment quota of the hour has been satisfied? WHY ARE YOU OFFERING ME DELICIOUS THIN MINTS, DEVIL CHILD? It’s like selling chocolate liqueur after forcing an alcoholic to pass through a grocery store with its own liquor aisle(s).
And just like that alcoholic, I know that No One Would Know if I just buy one box.
But you do know, little girl, don’t you? You know that it’d end up being 7 boxes, a mumbled excuse of “relatives” or a made-up “wife”, and then it’d be an illicit rush home to rip open the packaging and the frenzied attack to eat as many Thin Mints and Samoas as possible before the rational part of my brain realizes what the hell just happened. And just like that, 6 2 days later, in disbelief that my “stash” is empty, I’d find myself – junkie-like – trying to inhale the crumbs of what used to be 5 7 boxes worth of The Good Stuff.
Samoas? More like Samoashame.
And even if I manage to avoid your grocery/street-side Fat Traps, I still have to deal with you at the workplace.

People start talking to me about their daughters/cousins/little sisters/neighbors and how wonderful they are and how their Girl Scout troupe is doing this or that. You know what? I don’t care. Your daughter/cousin/little sister is useless as a person because they are children and children contribute nothing to society. I miss the days of child labor because at least back then they could make clothing or go into coal mines. Now? Now they have adults sell their Thin-Killer Cookies and tell stories about lovely little Jane and her smile and her rendition of a dandelion in the school play.
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Comments (10):
They also used to make the kids sweep chimneys. Oh, the good old days. Now, kids don’t know what chimneys even are. They all watch the yule log on TV and think that’s what a fireplace is. Cookie-wielding morons.
brad, Exactly. Child labor allowed for children to work as chimney sweeps and that led to a great deal of entertainment thanks to Mary Poppins. I weep for our underemployed youth.
I’ve somehow made it through 26 years barely even encountering Girl Scout cookies. I guess I should feel grateful, but I feel deprived instead.
yeeeah i just signed up for 5 boxes from a coworker’s kid. AND I AM NOT APOLOGETIC. COME TO ME, THIN MINTS. OM NOM NOM.
I totally judge the shopping contents of the person in front of me and behind me in line at the grocery store. Isn’t that what shopping is for?
SAMOAS. Love them. But here’s my primary question: Why do Girl Scout Cookies have different names across the country? In the Midwest, Samoas are called Caramel Delights. Do they not trust us simple Midwesterners to figure out the fancy names?!
Samoas are best.
What? I like my cookies with a side of racism.
The dreaded “Order Form of Doom” was posted in my office kitchen this morning. I gave it a dirty look, but we both know my name and the number 7 in the Samoas box will be up there by the end of the month. Stupid children.
I once at an entire box of samoas in 24 hours. It was worth it.
OH MY GOD I’m so mad at you for this. I would have NEVER known that it was Girl Scout season if it weren’t for you god damnit! Now I have to go buy Samoas AND Thin Mints because they’re both SO GOOD and I’m sending you a box of each. And you’re totally going to eat them. I refuse to let you make me feel bad about my fatty mcfatterson Girl Scout Cookie basket.