Nobody can resist a Girl Scout Cookie craving

Girl+Scout+Cookie+season+means+a+battle%2C+we+have+good+intentions%2C+but+always+get+defeated.+The+Samoas%2C+Thin+Mints%2C+and+Tagalongs+are+just+better+equipped+for+the+fight+with+your+stomach.

Art by Myah Teague

Girl Scout Cookie season means a battle, we have good intentions, but always get defeated. The Samoas, Thin Mints, and Tagalongs are just better equipped for the fight with your stomach.

They are everywhere.

In front of grocery stores, in the mall, in your school, and in extreme situations, on your front door step. 

I hear three knocks at my door. Each knock sends chills down my spine and hunger to my stomach. 

I tip-toe to the door, and see a brown or green sash peeking through the glass. I know what is about to happen.

I open the door, slowly, hearing it creak. I see the dreaded pig-tails, pin-covered sash, and the red wagon, stacked high, of Girl. Scout. COOKIES.  

The high pitched voice asks me the dreaded question…

“Would you like to buy some Girl Scout Cookies?”

Their big, glossy eyes stare into my soul.

I say yes, because if I say no, I’m a jerk.

They ask me what flavors I want…..and I can’t just get one.

So, I get Samoas, Trefoils, Lemon Ups, and because I’m trying to wean myself off, only two boxes of thin mints.

“How much a box?” I ask in a whisper.

“Five.”

I know they were four dollars two years ago, but I keep my mouth shut and grab my checkbook.

I give them the check inconspicuously.

“Thank you, Miss!”

I take my stack of cookies, shut the door and lock it. I run to my pantry, being mindful about who is around me. I don’t want anyone to know about my addiction.

I go back to doing the dishes. Every once in a while I catch my eyes darting to the pantry. It is like they have a mind of their own. 

“Hey you……” I hear in a whisper voice.

“Yo!……” the voice gets louder as I think about the cookies in the pantry. 

“EXCUSE ME,” the box says.

I run to the pantry and put my hand on the box to shut it up.

“You aren’t real, you’re in my head,” I said.

“You know you want me, just one bite.”

“You know I can’t just have one,” I told the box. “I need to wait a few days. I just ate three boxes two days ago.”

“Hey! Who are you talking to?” My mom called.

“Nobody! Just watching TV.”

She can’t know there are cookies in the house. She will want them all to herself.

“C’mon, you know how good I am, just a sleeve.”

“NO! I am strong. I am better than this.”

I run out and shut the door.

 

A voice woke me up in the night.

I walked down the stairs and flicked the pantry light on.

“I’m just so lonely in here. Nobody can enjoy me,” the box said.

I reached my hand out to the box, but quickly pulled it back.

“No! I am better than this,” I tell the cookies.

“Will you just stay with me until I fall asleep?” The box asked.

I comforted the lonely cookies, hugging them and telling them it will be okay.

 

 

I woke up in the pantry, chocolate encompassing my mouth, and five empty boxes surrounding me. 

“What have I done?” 

I heard three knocks at my door.

“Where is my checkbook?”

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