Tonight I attended an orientation for new Girl Scout troop leaders. I thought it would involve some construction paper ideas, handing me a pile of beanies and wishing me luck.
Oh no. Oh NO. Starting a Girl Scout troop is like applying to vet school. There’s reference checks, medical histories, asking for when I got my last tetanus shot…it’s nuts.
And the cookies. Oh, the cookies. Mandatory cookie training is December 11th. I’ll let that sink in: mandatory cookie training. What have I gotten myself into?
The co-leader and I are both grimacing at this particular responsibility. She sent an e-mail out to the other moms asking if someone would be the Cookie Mom, but so far no one has bitten.
“I’ll do it if I absolutely have to,” I said, “but I really think it would be a recipe for disaster.” The thought of Brody alone in a house full of 500 boxes of Thin Mints strikes terror into my heart.
As a reminder, this was my daughter’s birthday, 2009:
When I got home from the meeting, I found that Brody had removed an entire bunch of bananas from the counter, peeled them individually, and eaten them, leaving nothing but one solid pile of banana peels on the floor. I cleared absolutely everything off the counter that I deemed to be at risk, so now he’s moved on to peeling bananas.
DEFINITELY Not It for Cookie Mom.