Him: What’s with the thousands of cardboard cases in the garage? Did you go to the wine store today?
Me: No. Duh, wine store day is Friday and it’s only Tuesday. No, they’re cookies.
Me: Girl Scout Cookies. I thought I told you, I’m Cookie Mom again this year.
Him: (Choking in shock.) Didn’t we just settle the lawsuit from the last time you were cookie mom?
Me: Statute of Limitations. Or something. And it’s Cookie Mom with a capital C.M.
Him: I call capital B.S. Isn’t this like your 4th or 5th time? And do we even still have a kid in Scouts?
Me: I re-signed her to a limited contract before the trade deadline. And it’s my 11th. Or something.
Him: And don’t you dislike this experience?
Me: Immensely. But I was nominated.
Him: (Scoffs.) By people who have never met you?
Me: Obviously. Nor did anyone read the coffee mug I was drinking that said, “World’s Worst Cookie Mom.”
Him: Maybe the Chardonnay you were day drinking out of said coffee mug should have also tipped them off.
Me: (Ignoring him.) It was a Sauvignon Blanc because I’m classy. (Pausing.) I’ve decided to take my sales approach in a different direction.
Him: By way of the insane asylum where I’ll be residing while you lament over spreadsheets and Pinterest?
Me: No, although if you want to see my epic pins on booth decorations at Kroger, that can be arranged. I was thinking of a more direct, aggressive sales perspective.
Him: What’s wrong with the passive-aggressive posts you’ve left on the neighborhood ListServ you’ve always relied on in the past?
Me: (Smiling sheepishly in recollection.) Ok, maybe I’ll save that tactic as well—I got an extra half dozen boxes from Mrs. Kravitz last year telling her they were an appropriate snack for the neighborhood pond fowl, Ron Swanson. (Shaking off the pleasant reverie.) But I was thinking about really embracing the project more. Going really big—flyers, billboards, sales incentives. A multi-level social media campaign. Really connecting with my inner Thin Mint.
Him: Why not your inner lemon cookie because you’re really starting out fairly sweet but I know you’ll be bitter in the end.
Me: (Gazing upon the endless sea of cookies beached in the garage.) Or you could just Do-Si-Do over to that blank order form and bring it to work and get the majority of sales from your coworkers while I get creative with all of the excess inventory I’ve overbought?
Him: (Sighing resignedly as we both knew it would end up in this vein from the beginning.)
Me: (Relieved.) Now hand me some more boxes of the shortbread. I’m breading some tilapia for Ron Swanson with it.
©2017 Tracey Henry
Previous thoughts on Cookie Mom-ming
Dishing From Others