Guilt Scout Cookies

I was a girl scout. Many, many years ago.

I was also a go-getter. Not much has changed there.

One of my favorite things was busting my hump to sell the most cookies when it came time. I'm sure some other girl beat me to the punch, but I was tireless in my efforts. At least I think I was.

What I remember more than selling those cookies was that my absolute hands down favorites were a tie between Thin Mints and Samoas, with Tagalongs coming in a distant third, and only when they were frozen.

There was always a love/hate relationship with the cookies, as they were prized possessions, and I could not stop eating them once I started. I was never a savorer. If I have a cookie, it vanishes. Quickly. Something delicious should be in my belly, not sitting in front of me. Or, at least that's what my hands and pie hole think.

I used to be able to make my way at least 1/2 way through a sleeve of Thin Mints before I could pour myself a glass of milk to wash it down.

This year, I got a message from my youngest niece (with my brother in the background prompting her) asking me to buy some Girl Scout Cookies from her. How could I say no to anyone that adorable?! So, I called my brother and told him I'd take four boxes. Two each of the Thin Mints and Samoas.

Having been gluten free since last summer, I wasn't about to derail myself for some sugary treats I'd soon regret, but I also wasn't going to disappoint a little girl trying to meet her goals. So, I brought them to work. One workplace employs at least 90 people. The day the cookies arrived, I brought two boxes to the breakroom to share. When I left work a few hours later, there was still 1/2 a sleeve of Thin Mints. I was shocked that any were left.

A week later, I brought the rest of the cookies to my other workplace, where there are fewer than 10 employees. When I left a few hours after arriving, they'd demolished 1/2 of all the cookies! I was impressed, and glad that the cookies brought so much joy to so many bellies.