At the Cookie Booth

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it before, because we’ve been so wrapped up in the baby, but Mini Me is a girl scout this year.  A Brownie, specifically.  It’s her first year and she loves being able to make friends outside of the neighborhood…as do I, because frankly, all the girls in our neighborhood are little skank-ass bratty bitches.  That rubs off on a 9-year-old.  My child has enough sass on her own and I don’t need those tramps adding to it.

We are right smack in the middle of cookie season, which seems a lot more daunting than it is.  It’s really not that hard…those cookies pretty much sell themselves.  The hardest part has been keeping the kids’ grubby little paws out of the cases of cookies that we have in our house.  I honestly can’t believe that I haven’t gotten into a few dozen boxes myself, yet.

Last weekend was the first weekend of cookie booths.  I signed Mini Me and myself up to volunteer at a booth at a local grocery store.  It was conveniently right down the street from our house and it was from 6-8 pm on a Friday night.  Easy, right?? (I’m laughing as I type this. How naive I was.)

We got to the booth and it was just about as chaotic as it was going to get.  I settled in to helping the troop leader and her husband (who is our cookie coordinator) set up the booth and I got the girls ready and explained the rules. Yes, there are rules.

1. Do not ask people going INTO the store if they want to buy cookies.  Ask the patrons coming OUT of the store.
Basically, the Girl Scouts are being nice and not taking business away from the businesses that let us set up shop.  We can be patient and wait to drain your customers of all their money after they’ve spent a little at your establishment.

2. ALWAYS say thank you. Even if the person says no.
Kill them with kindness. Make them sorry they ever said no to the sweet little munchkin that just wanted them to buy a $4 box of cookies.

These are the main 2 rules, other than the safe, don’t run in the street, don’t take the cookies to people’s cars…yada yada yada.

The first hour went by pretty fast.  The girls were adorable. They made their sales like little budding business women and we were all very proud and cheering them on.  Then hour two hit.  This was a group of girls 10 and younger and they were soooo over this booth.  It was all we could do to keep them focused.  Dad was ready to rip his hair out…the girls and other parents were pretty much just throwing money at him.  Troop leader was back and forth between two booths, so she wasn’t much help, and neither were the other moms who either didn’t give a shit or just…didn’t give a shit.

So enters Nazi Mom. (that’d be me)
This is what the rest of my night consisted of.
“Girls, don’t climb on that”
“Girls, we don’t want to BLOCK the people coming out of the store. Let them CHOOSE whether they want to buy cookies.”
“Wait until they are actually out of the store to ask.”
“Let’s stop dancing and let the people by, ok?”
“Give her back her bunny.”
“You’re filthy. What have you been doing?” Response: “I’m a diiiiirty girl scout.” (I tried to stifle the laugh. I really did.)
“Get off the trash can.”
“Stay on this side of the poles where I can see you!”
“Don’t make me ask you to settle down again!”
“People don’t want to buy cookies from mommies, they want to buy cookies from YOU.”  This was in response to the suggestion that maybe they could sit down and the parents could sell for the rest of the night.

It may have been the longest hour of my life.  We slowly transitioned from happy/excited to bored to unruly to tired and cranky.  It was awful.
Evidently I did something right, though, because troop leader approached me and asked if I could help her with some troop shit.  Because I’m all calm under pressure and organized.  Mike laughed when I told him this.  She doesn’t know me at all.  I’ve been recruited to handle all the troop paperwork.  Office crap.  That is kind of up my alley.

I rock this Girl Scout stuff.  Maybe I’ll start my own troop for adults.  Mommy Scouts.  All we have to do is get together twice a month and make fun crafts for an hour and a half.  There is a snack involved. Plus, we can make it alcohol related.  Who’s down?




8 thoughts on “At the Cookie Booth

  1. Alcohol? I’m not a mom, but I’m in. And you have to let me because they’re letting girls into Boy Scouts now.

    By the way, is it okay to call young girls “little skank-ass bratty bitches” now? I’m not judging. I just want to know if that’s cool so I can start letting a few of those fly instead of holding it in, smiling, and trying not to eye gouge them.

    • I really should have been more correct and called it “Parent Scouts”. Squatches of all kinds are always welcome. We actually had one of the older brothers at the booth selling and he did better than most of the girls 🙂

      As far as bratty bitches go, in order to preserve what little self esteem they have left (because I’m convinced they have issues), I only call them names behind their back. It prevents me from running them over with my car.

  2. I’m a sucker for buying girl scout cookies. I just bought 6 boxes from my neighbor’s grandkid. There aren’t enough of them putting up visible stands, if you ask me. Last time I was preggs, I HUNTED THEM DOWN. My best friends drove me up and down the freeway until we could spot some girls selling something at one of the storefronts. I consider myself lucky I only had to run over to my other neighbor’s house while she was buying some to interrupt their sale. To buy a lot. For the new fetus. It’s only right.

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