What A Cookie Can Do

2000 boxes of cookiesThat was the theme for this year’s Girl Scout Cookie Sale, and I can tell you what it can do…send the cookie mom to the crazy house.

The year started out in the midst of being Cookie Mom for my six-year-old’s Daisy troop. When 2000 boxes of cookies arrived at my home and filled a room, my kids thought we’d won the lottery.

This is what heaven looks like to Cookie Monster.

Stupid lady saying yes I'll do itI got all excited at the word “cookie” and screamed “I’ll do it!” without first reading the job description. The fine print that should have been included:

Two months of your life will be sacrificed…you will never get them back. Your house will fall apart while simultaneously being transformed into a warehouse. You will do more math than you have seen since High School and the red tape of paperwork rivals that of the Pentagon. You will also gain 10 to 15 pounds thanks to the convenience of purchasing Samoas from the comfort of your living room at 2am so good luck with that.

2012 suckers guide to selling cookiesSeems simple. Just sell cookies. They practically sell themselves, but there is an entire notebook full of paperwork and rules to follow. Inventory to track. Incentives and patches to order.

After a month of presales was complete, a month of booth duty followed. This consists of loading up cases of cookies, a table, cash box, and two 6 year olds who have the cuteness factor working for them.

I remember being a girl scout and wanting that 100 cookie sale patch so badly I could taste the thread I would be using to sew it on. It never happened. My daughter gets the 250 box patch! She’s cuter, a better salesman, and much more determined. Needless to say I did not go into sales.

The trash men are probably trying to get a glimpse of the crazy person who is eating cookies by the case. This was a light day with only 3 boxes.

Then there was all the excitement of constantly counting money with distractions.
counting cookie money

If that wasn’t enough to do, this is the time:
bad hair

  • My oven died
  • My daughter decided that cutting Barbie’s hair wasn’t as fun as taking a chuck out of her own…to the scalp. This photo is the painful regrowth process we are enduring.
  • Taxes
  • Millions of practices for 4 MPA (Music Practice Assessment) performances for 2 kids (band AND orchestra)
  • Little one lost her precious blankie.
  • A million other distractions keeping me from blogging – including addictions to Scramble and Draw Something.

So now that I’m officially done with cookies, I hope to be here more often again. This post is to remind me next year to just say “no”. I did my time.