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Oh, YES, I Did!

August 5, 2017

Yep, I just took $5 from my kid. I have zero reservations about it either.

A little back story, I do everyone’s laundry. Don’t judge me, yes my kids need to know how to do it but most days it’s just easier if I do it. They put their own laundry away, but I do wash, dry and fold it. In a pinch, they are smart enough to do it themselves and have done it once or twice.

Anyway, my girls play hard. They get dirty and as such, they are stinky. Yes, my kids stink. It’s been so hot and humid, that though rare recently, when they wear socks, those things get ripe. A few months ago I was griping and grumbling about inside out nasty socks and underwear still attached to shorts in the dirty clothes hamper. So The Husband and Little One worked out a deal that if she tosses her clothes in the dirty clothes hamper inside out, she owes me $1 per piece. It was a win for me!

She did really well and was committed when the deal first started. After a few months, I’d occasionally still find inside out stuff but it was rare so I let it go.

Well, last night after taking a shower the Little One came out to the living room wrapped only in a towel and announced in a not-so-pleasant fashion that she was “out of pajamas!” Another little backstory here, the Little One has a wonderful habit of just tossing her dirty clothes wherever she strips them off. Typically the floor of her room is covered with inside out clothes. Just like everyone else in the family, if they expect me to wash their clothes, they need to get said clothes to the dirty clothes hamper. I do not go hunting and gathering for dirty stuff. So often, she waits until I’ve washed everything, THEN she decides to clean her room. This is what happened earlier in the week.

So as she was exclaiming her dissatisfaction with my laundry abilities, I simply told her to find a t-shirt or something and go to bed. Her crisis was not my problem.

This morning as I began sorting the dirty clothes in the hamper to begin the wash, I found plenty of inside out clothes. Not feeling too generous after the attitude last night, I began tracking as I flipped things right side out:

One T-shirt

One pair of shorts WITH the underwear still attached (2 pieces technically)

One purple sock

Two purple socks

One pajama shorts bottom

One pajama tank top

One nightgown

As I counted I shouted from the living room, asking for clarification on the dealio that The Husband and Little One has negotiated. “Was it $1 per piece or $1 per pair, if it’s socks?”

The response from The Husband and Big One, was $1 per piece.

At that I heard little footsteps charging down the hallway, “WAIT! WAIT! WAIT!” she exclaimed.

Now she did clean both bathrooms yesterday, so as she tried justifying why her clothes were all inside out, I decided to cut her a deal and only charge her $5 instead of the $8 it should have been.

We’ll see if this lesson of handing mom the $5 really sticks or I make even more money on the deal.

“Aren’t You Going to Put It Away?”

July 27, 2017

Summer is so much fun, right? Constant togetherness with your sibling. Not enough “fun” stuff to do. Your mom constantly saying, “Go read a book!” when you complain about being bored. It’s been a long couple of weeks since we returned from the “Epic Adventure!” (Yes, I am working on sharing some of those stories, but THAT is a project!)

The summer has been different for the girls. Usually they get to pick a couple of Girl Scout camps to attend and then we do fun stuff on the off weeks. Well because the Epic Adventure began on the last day of school, we opted to not do any Girl Scout camps. That means since returning from the 23-day, 6,149 mile road trip we haven’t done much “fun stuff.”

Today the girls were picking at each other as usual and I was getting more and more frustrated. So in my infinite wisdom I told them to enjoy the TV today because there will be NO TV tomorrow. (Pretty sure this is a case where I am punishing myself more than them!) UGH!

Anyway, the Little One just wanted to play in the backyard. She kept asking the Big One, badminton? Frisbee? Catch? Baseball? Water balloons? Each time the Big One refused. Oh the joys of tweendom.

So I told the Little One I would play with her despite the laundry, dirty dishes, etc. So first up was badminton. It was only a matter of minutes before the birdie was on the patio roof. So I dragged out the ladder, climbed to the top, used the giant broomstick and retrieved the birdie. Then I put the ladder away while the Little One put the broom away.

A few more minutes of badminton and guess what happened? Yep! Birdie on the roof again. So I again got out the ladder and broom, and repeated the retrieval process. This time I also retrieved two hula hoops while I was up there.  Then we put the ladder and broom back in the garage.

Then I suggested we try something different. The Little One was onboard so she grabbed the Frisbee. A few tosses of the Frisbee and all was well, until it wasn’t,  and we watched as the Frisbee soared up and over the fence. Of course it went towards the corner of the yard so we weren’t sure which neighbor’s yard it went into. So I grabbed the ladder again. This time the Little One climbed up and peeked over the fence to see which neighbor we were going to visit. She spotted the Frisbee and off we went around the block to retrieve it.

Our elderly neighbor sweetly told us to “go on in the back and get it!” So the Little One went thru the neighbor’s gate and retrieved it.

We walked back home and tossed the Frisbee again for a bit. Things were going so well. Then the Little One tried to get a little fancy and what do you think happened? Yep, back up on the roof it went. So guess what we did? Yep, got the ladder and broomstick out of the garage. I climbed to the top of the ladder and retrieved the Frisbee.

Only this time, when I climbed back down the ladder, I simply folded it up and leaned it against the outside of the garage.

The Little One, who was perplexed after putting the broomstick away yet again asked, “Mom, aren’t you going to put it away?”

Fool me once kid, shame on you. Fool me twice kid, shame on me. Only it took me three times to learn my lesson!

I only wish that I could say the story ended here. But alas it does not. After the third trip up the ladder, I decided I needed a drink of water. So I turned my back on the Little One for all of 6 seconds to take a sip of water and what do you think she did?

Nope, it didn’t go on the roof…. It went over the fence again! So back around the corner we went. This time I assured our neighbor we were done with the Frisbee.

Riddle Me This

July 25, 2017

I know I have lamented about this on Facebook, so I apologize again for this little rant.

So the Big One has a well child appointment coming up this week. Thankfully I put this appointment reminder on my phone because in the great state of California, the powers that be have decided that once my child turned 12 years old she is entitled to great privacy surrounding her healthcare. I can no longer see her online health information including appointment reminders, immunizations info and past lab results.

Well, here’s the deal as long as the state of California is NOT paying for said child’s healthcare, they really need to keep their noses out of her perceived need for privacy.

As her mother, the one who manages her healthcare, I have always had access to her medical information. So if there was a Girl Scout permission slip where I needed the dates for her immunizations, I could log into the system and quickly see all of her immunization dates. If the other moms were comparing the size of similar aged children, I could log into the system and quickly see how much the Big One weighed at her last appointment. When The Husband talked about visiting amusement parks, we could easily log in and see just how tall she was to determine exactly which rides she could go on.

But now that she is 12, the state of California thinks I should not have access to this information. So back to the well child appointment that is coming up in a couple days. I have now received, via e-mail, TWO notifications regarding a health questionnaire that the physician has requested be completed before the upcoming appointment. Funny thing is, I cannot access the questionnaire because again the state of California believes my child needs privacy.

I know what you are thinking, this really is an easy fix. If she is old enough to deserve privacy, let her have her own online account to manage these things herself. Well, here’s the kicker, she is apparently old enough to deserve privacy, but she is NOT old enough to create her own online account. She has to be 13 to be considered responsible enough to have an online account.  Someone please explain this to me.

I’ve done some research on this challenge. While the state of California made the laws, it seems Kaiser is also partially to blame. There are other healthcare systems in California that have special online systems for kids age 12-17 that allow individual accounts. The information that Kaiser provides seems to contradict their reality. As I read this information, I should still have access to her online account until she turns 13, but that is not the reality. I guess I will be reaching out to Member Services again to figure out what’s actually going on.

As an aside, my child is healthy. She doesn’t have any difficult or chronic conditions that we have to manage daily. So, yes for us this is simply a very minor inconvenience. My heart goes out to my friends and family members who children have chronic conditions that require daily medical interventions. I have heard those horror stories regarding access and cannot imagine the stress that adds to survival each day. If only we lived in a world where the powers that be truly understood the daily plight of the average citizen.

 

I can still e-mail her doctor and vice versa…

I can even read the message!

OOPS! Just kidding I can’t do what they are asking me to do!

 

Too Much TV

July 24, 2017

The Husband is very good at a lot of things. He works hard to take care of us. He walks the dog every day. He volunteers in the community. He loves Jesus. He’s a good guy. One thing he does not enjoy doing is yard work. This is one of the main reasons why we have fake grass in the front yard.

Of course, we live in California. It is not easy to keep real grass alive. We won’t even talk about the cost of watering or trying to figure out what day of the week it’s even legal for our street address to actually turn the water on without the fear or an exorbitant fine.

On Saturday, The Husband was busy with a Search and Rescue training event, so I took the girls to see the Captain Underpants movie (don’t judge, it’s free entertainment on Base).  After the movie, we drove around downtown for a little bit to ogle at the folks dressed up for Comic-Con (again free entertainment!).

After weaving through the mess downtown, I decided it was time to head home. The Husband’s training finished up early so he beat us home. As soon as we rounded the corner onto our street, The Husband came into view. He had a shovel in his hand and the green waste trashcan right next to him. (Yes we have THREE different colored trash cans for collection on alternating weeks. It’s almost as bad as trying to determine your watering day!).

Before I could even say a word, the Little One exclaims from the back seat, “WHOA! What did he do? It must’ve been REALLY bad!”

It took all that I had to not fall over laughing. The Little One’s comment coupled with seeing that The Husband was in fact doing yardwork was almost too much.  I did not ask him to. I had not nagged him incessantly. I had not passive aggressively hinted at anything needing to be done. Yet there he was in the front yard, shovel in hand.

Back in 2012 when I first planted them. They were so cute!

A little background here…. Yes, we have fake grass. But I wanted some living plants as well. So we have a planter area that butts up against the house. In my infinite wisdom I planted succulents including fire sticks there. I thought the hearty cactus plants that change from green to yellow to orange to red would be a fantastic pop of color in the front of the house. In my defense it was a great idea! They looked beautiful for the first few years. And then they decided that they were really, really, really happy where they were planted and they began to multiply and grow larger and larger and larger. They really started to take over. It was a challenge to get to the hose. The flagpole access was being impeded. I could barely get to the electrical outlet to plug in the Christmas decorations. My lovely fire sticks were becoming a huge nuisance.

So one day I decided they needed to go. I began hacking at these poor plants. It took us several weeks of filling our green waste trashcan, along with about six or seven trashcans that we borrowed from our fantastic neighbor.  The Husband got sucked into the joy of hacking these things down because he does love me and didn’t want me to kill myself alone in the project. Did I mention that the sap that oozes out of the fire stick plants is toxic? Yes, it will burn your skin and people have reported temporary blindness when they’ve gotten the smooth milky white sap in their eyes. So for several weekends we worked on chopping down the plants that really had become like trees.

We finally got down to the roots. I spent another several weeks dousing the roots with RoundUp (again don’t judge, after many hours of research I discovered it’s really the only option for killing the darn things.) The roots have been pretty dead for several months now. I have been to chicken to try to dig them out because, of their location. You see the one challenge of my little planter box area, is that the water and gas mains to the house run right through the middle of it. So I admit I am little paranoid and did not want to be the one who struck the water main with the shovel so I have just been ignoring the ugly planter box with dead cactus roots for months now.

AHHHH! They’ve taken over!

So back to Saturday afternoon, The Husband, who hates yardwork and quite honestly, thinks plants and flowers are pretty useless was digging out the roots!  But again, I have not said a word about it. Yes, I may feel like I am dying a little each time I notice the ugliness, but I figured one of these days I would get tired of it and try to work on it. But so far that day hadn’t happened. Now here he is working on the ugly roots!

As I tried to stifle my laughter from The Little One’s comments, she runs up to him and says, “What did you do?”

The Husband was baffled by her comment thinking at first that she insinuating that he had destroyed or broken something that was hers. Before he could say anything to her, she continued by saying something to the effect of, “Did you cheat on her or something? You are really sucking up!”

Oh my gosh, y’all I do not always understand how her brain works but this was hilarious. Clearly my child has watched too much TV, although I am not sure what show she’s watching where she picked up this little gem.

Alas, The Husband is not cheating on me or sucking up. He was already sweaty from his SAR training, so it was a good time to put in some work on the mess. Plus the neighbors across the street have spent countless hours re-designing their entire front yard so I think it was more about a little peer pressure, combined with knowing that his wife would have probably started nagging very soon. I mean it’s only been seven months or so!

A Date Night to Remember

July 21, 2017

So, those of you with kids, how often do you really have a date night? I know the experts say you have to carve time out for each other. You have to schedule regular date nights, but c’mon the reality, for many of us is that there is just not enough hours in the day. So last night was a rare date night opportunity for us. The husband’s mom wanted to take the girls and their cousins to see a musical production. She offered to keep the girls overnight too.

This was a bonus date night with the girls sleeping at Grammy and Papa’s. The Husband had to work this morning, so I was relishing the thought of sleeping in this morning and sipping hot coffee in a quiet house. I fantasized about the peace that I would feel. What is it they say about the best laid plans?

So for date night, we typically go out to dinner and then walk on the beach and enjoy the sunset. We figured we’d do the same last night. We try to select restaurants that we don’t take the girls to. I mean really, how many times can you eat at Chili’s or Fuddrucker’s? So I suggested El Torito. Yes, we have many Mexican restaurant choices in San Diego. Is El Torito, the best? Absolutely not! But I do really like their grilled chicken Mexican Caesar salad, so The Husband agreed to try it. He doesn’t remember ever eating there. I am fairly certain we’ve been there as a family, but that’s a different story.

So we pull into the parking lot and I warn The Husband that the parking spaces are teeny tiny in this particular parking lot. It’s really strange because it’s a decent sized strip mall with a Burlington Coat Factory as its anchor so why the spots are so small, I’ll never understand. Anyway, The Husband drives a big ‘ole SUV so he parked in the back nine, like past the Burlington. So El Torito is on one end of the lot then there is the Burlington, then where we parked. (This will become important later in the story!)

We walked in and were immediately seated. It was a quiet night so far. We sat for a while and were finally greeted. Then a few minutes later our orders were taken. Then, considering how quiet the restaurant was, the food seemed to take an exorbitant amount of time (again, this turns out to be okay!)

{Just an aside, the last time I came to this El Torito was on Mother’s Day with my mom, sister, two nieces and the girls. That night the service was terribly slow as well, and we are fairly certain there was a kitchen fire while we were there. I should have known better than to choose this particular location!}

So anyway, our food finally came. We ate and then we waited for the check. Finally it arrived. We were both getting a little impatient by now at the time everything was taking. The server dropped our check off and then bolted to another table. The Husband had his wallet and credit card ready, but he wasn’t fast enough to get give it to our server before he bolted. So at that point, we both reached for our wallets figuring maybe we had enough cash between the two of us to pay the bill and leave. Our server must have sensed that we were getting impatient because he suddenly reappeared. So we put our cash away and went back to Plan A which was use the credit card. It took a few more minutes for our server to return with the credit card receipt and then we were on our way.

Turns out these delays were probably a good things. Funny how things happen and then later, we realize that there was a reason for all of it!

As we were walking out the doors of the restaurant, I casually said maybe we should walk over to Burlington and see what they’ve got. You just never know what you will find at a Burlington. I’m pretty sure The Husband was not onboard with this idea, but before he had a chance to tell me so, we were out the restaurant doors and were confronted with six or seven police cars and a community service officer truck parked all around the parking lot. Most of the police cars were near the entrance to the Burlington, so I quite naturally assumed that the Burlington had probably been robbed.

Remember we were parked in the back nine of the parking lot. Thankfully we were not in the center section of the lot where all the police cars were blocking the entrances to each aisle.

I admit it, curiosity got the best of me. I was looking down the aisles of the parking lot trying to figure out what in the heck was going on. I felt safe with all the police presence. The Husband was a few steps in front of me so he approached the next aisle before I did. As he looked down the aisle, he said, “OH! Don’t look!”

Unfortunately for me, he said it about a half second too late. My eyes had already wandered down the parking lot aisle. There was a person lying motionless in the parking lot. I quickly diverted my eyes and walked towards The Husband’s car. I did not need to see anything else. I did not look down any more aisles. I became acutely aware that this was NOT a robbery at the store. As I went directly to the vehicle, The Husband is bolder than I am. He approached a police officer who was standing close by. There was a vehicle parked diagonally in front of ours. The driver’s door and trunk were open. The officer was standing near it. The Husband inquired about what had happened. The police officer gave a brief explanation of what they thought had happened. (for those of you curious, this is what happened.)

At this point, I am just wanting to get in the car and get away. Then the fire truck rolled onto the scene. We noticed that the fire personnel were not moving with a lot of urgency, confirming our speculation that the man was already deceased. At that point the police officials began putting up yellow caution tape around most of the parking lot. We took that as a very clear indication we needed to leave the area because it was going to be a long night.

As we exited the parking lot, the ambulance arrived and I said a silent prayer for the victim’s family and friends. We opted to continue with our plan to walk on the beach. Goodness knows we need some beauty after what we’d just seen. My tummy was a little urpy and I was feeling a bit uneasy. I called my sister and talked with her as we drove to the beach. So the goal was to just get to the beach, inhale that salty ocean air and just enjoy the rest of the evening as best we could.

Often as soon as we get within range, The Husband will inhale deeply and exclaim, “Smell the air!” He loves, loves, loves the ocean. So last night just as we turned into the parking lot at Mission Beach, he inhaled deeply and … the whiff he got was NOT ocean air! But it was something that would probably have calmed my nerves had we just stopped the vehicle!  Instead we drove through the cloud of dope and found a parking spot.

We made several inappropriate jokes about second hand smoke vs second hand-dope as we made our way to the boardwalk enjoying the ocean air. For those of you who don’t live near the beach, at sunset time the smell in the air is different. You still get that salty, sticky ocean smell but it’s mixed with the aroma of sunscreen and fire as the bonfires are being lit. The mood shifts from giggly, shrieking kids splashing in the ocean to the calmer quiet that comes as the sunsets and the tide rolls in lapping against the sand creeping ever closer to those concrete fire pits. {Depending on which beach you go to, you also do experience the other smells! I was surprised to smell it so profusely at Mission Beach though!}

It was cloudy so the sunset, while beautiful, was not spectacular but it was enough to calm my nerves and help me get away from the scene in the parking lot. My stomach was still feeling urpy so we didn’t stay too long at the beach. We decided to head home. I was feeling more calm and relaxed until we got on the freeway.

We entered the 8 eastbound to head home. As we got on the ramp at W. Mission Bay Drive, we were following three motorcycles. No big deal, really you just have to watch for the slap happy morons leaving the beach while also dealing with the tourists who don’t know which way the all the different lanes split off. It’s a little hairy most of the time, but it’s a bearable hairy interchange most days.

Then you have the days when complete asshats on motorcycles think they are invincible and begin doing wheelies as they weave in and out of the lanes of traffic. What in the actual hell is wrong with people? Why on earth would you be so freaking stupid? If you want kill yourself doing wheelies find a less congested spot to meet your Maker. There is no need to do it in front of me. I had already seen on dead body, I certainly did not need to see another one.

This stuff is amazing!

Needless to say, the calm that I have achieved through watching the sunset was now gone and I was a big ole ball of stress again. Thankfully the morons on motorcycles did not wipe out in front of us. Even more thankful they exited on to N805 as we continued on towards home. Then we did the only logical thing there was left to do. We drove to our local Vons (hell on earth according to my niece!) and I sought out some of Ben & Jerry’s One Love ice cream. Have y’all had this stuff? Holy macaroni, it’s amazing!! It’s a limited edition that I have not been able to find anywhere else. So in my stress filled-stomach-urpy madness, I confess that I paid $4.99 for a damn PINT of Ben & Jerry’s. Who in the heck can afford to buy this stuff regularly? I usually pay $2.49 for a half gallon of Dreyer’s. But $4.99 for a dang pint?? Oy very.

Our date night to remember ended with a session of stress-induced, over-priced ice cream eating.

Next date night we are having pizza delivered.

Know When To Fold ‘Em

March 6, 2017

There comes a time in every one’s life where they sometimes just have to admit they can’t do it all. My latest one of those moments came over the weekend. We are in the final stretch of Girl Scout Cookie season. I love doing cookies. It’s stressful, hectic, crazy, annoying and fun all at the same time.

I love seeing the girls grow and learn. I love seeing them figure out the math and make change for customers. I love seeing them grow and mature as they learn to interact with adults who often need to grow and mature themselves.

You see cookie season is not really about delicious thin mints or chocolate, coconut and caramel goodness. Cookie season is about learning. It’s about goal setting. It’s about honing business and marketing skills. It’s about making choices. Cookies teach the girls confidence. Cookies teach the girls about patience. Cookies teach the girls compassion.

cookie-mobile02One of the major tenents of cookie season is goal setting and striving to reach those goals. We talk a lot about realistic goals versus pie in the sky goals. Over the years, the conversation has gotten easier as the girls learn what is realistic and what it not. This year the girls set a combined goal of 1,300 boxes of cookies. Last year they sold a combined 1,355 boxes. We knew this year would be a little tougher because The Husband has been away for work for most of the cookie season. Without a second parent, we cannot divide and conquer as much as usual. So we knew numbers would be down a little bit but the girls were committed to pushing themselves to get what they wanted.

In addition to The Husband being gone, the Big One opted to go to church camp the first weekend of cookie sales. Again, a choice that she made knowing that if at the end we were not at their goals, the Little One got first choice of which incentives she received because she was doing the first big weekend alone.  Again, cookies have taught the girls valuable life lessons this time – making choices, setting priorities and accepting consequences.

As the cookie season rolled on, The Big One got terribly ill. We are still not certain what it was the hit her, but she was wiped out for about 10 days, including missing 5 days of school. (This is a kid who did not miss five days of school total through Kindergarten – 5th grade!) It was a nasty bug.  The Big One clearly does not get sick often, but when she does, boy howdy she does it good. Knowing this, her pediatrician immediately started her on Cleocin, which is the nastiest antibiotic known to man. In case you missed our last time on Cleocin, you can read about that joy here.

That illness put a huge damper on sales because The Husband was out of town so we were homebound for the better part of two weeks. We finally got The Big One’s illness cleared up. The Husband came home and we were rolling again. The Big One is old enough to participate in booth sales alone with just one adult so we divided and conquered for one weekend of sales. There was a glimmer of hope we’d get to their goal.

Then last week The Little one got bands put on in preparation for braces. I know everyone is different and their experiences are different. Well, the Little One, my tough one, was knocked on her butt with these darn bands. She developed nasty canker sores where they are rubbing on her cheeks. And to top it all off, she picked up a nasty bug herself. {I finally took her to urgent care last night and she’s got a sinus infection. So here we go again with antibiotics in this house.}

The Little One, she’s a trooper and despite feeling miserable, she agreed to stay home alone for a couple hours over the weekend while the Big One and I tried to sell some cookies. On Saturday we were rolling along at a great pace selling cookie after cookie and then the bloody nose hit. Yes, the Big One got a bloody nose in the middle of an extremely successful booth sale. We do not leave booth sales early. They are highly coveted spots, especially this late in the season, but there was nothing we could do. Her nose was not cooperating.

So as we got everything loaded into the car, I admit I lost it. I cried the entire way home because I knew the goal was unattainable and I felt like I had let my girls down. How silly is that? Number one, we are talking cookies here not the cure for cancer. Number two, illness, travel for work, bloody noses are all part of life and nothing that I, or anyone else, can control. So why on earth did I feel so responsible for the success of cookie season?

As we got home and talked a little bit more about cookies and goals, we also learned more about negotiating and fairness. The Big One has argued that while yes, the Little One took on the first weekend by herself, she had now taken on this past weekend by herself. She did three booth sales alone while the Little One was sick on the couch. She made some excellent points.

allison-otm02Now as the mom and Chief Referee, I have some tough decisions to make. But again, we are all learning lots of great life lessons this cookie season. So while some of you, and many random strangers, are annoyed with the abundance of cookie sellers that are seemingly everywhere, please remember that it’s really not about peanut butter and chocolate goodness or deliciously tart lemon and powdered sugar confections, it’s really a season about life. We are doing our best to raise responsible, caring, smart, feisty, opinionated, confident people. We are not just peddling over-priced, sugar-filled treats. We are trying our best to teach the girls how to be successful adults.

We appreciate each and every one of you for your role in our cookie season. We love those of you who buy cookie after cookie after cookie. We love those of you who donate to Operation Thin Mint (our program of collecting cash donations in order to purchase and send cookies to deployed troops). And yes, we love those of you who do not buy cookies or make donations. We need all of you to help us to grow and learn.

We’ve got six days left of this madness. Heaven help us to survive it all as we push on. We will most likely not hit their cookie goal, but I hope that the life lessons will be enough. Those lessons will certainly last longer than most of the incentives the girls will receive for their efforts.

Dealing With Those Pesky Girl Scouts

January 30, 2017

cookie-mobileGirl Scouts Cookie sales started for us yesterday, and it’s obvious that many folks in my neighborhood missed my post last year about How to Talk to Girl Scout Cookie Sellers (shocking, I know!). So as a community service, here is a short and sweet rundown on how to deal with those pesky little Girl Scouts asking if you want to buy yummy, delicious Girl Scout cookies:

If you…. Are on a diet and a Girl Scout asks if you want to buy cookies
You can say…. No thank you.

 

If you… Have seriously zero cash
You can say…. No thank you.

 

If you…Are seriously struggling with life and barely making ends meets
You can say… No thank you.

 

If you…. Are diabetic, allergic to sugar, chocolate, gluten, coconut, eggs, cat, dogs, penicillin or peanuts
You can say… No thank you.

 

If you…. Have 4 granddaughters, 13 grand nieces and 3 neighbors all selling cookies too
You can say… No thank you.

 

If you… Think Girl Scouts are evil because they participate in a national event in Washington, DC.
You can say…. No thank you.

 

If you … Are currently burning dinner while trying to change a poopy diaper, while at the same time wrestling with your dog who is destroying your favorite slipper
You can say…No thank you.

 

If you …. Already gave at the office, tithe to your church, volunteer to feed the homeless and buy extra food for animals at the pound
You can say… No thank you.

 

I’m not sure if you notice a theme here or not, but there most definitely is one.

Don’t get me wrong, we don’t mind hearing about your struggles, challenges, allergies and disdain for life in general. Feel free to share your story with us. But please remember there is no reason to be rude, condescending or flat out lie to a child who is simply learning some life skills, while also raising funds so that her troop can have some fun, help people in need and do their part to make the world a better place. YES! A cookie can do all that!

For those of you who constantly support my girls and all the other girls in your neighborhood. We sincerely thank you for being awesome!