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Thursday, March 8, 2012

Potty Mouth

Tonight, I had one of those stress-filled evenings where my second set of jaws came out and snapped at anyone who dared to annoy me within a six mile radius. I have had it. Never again.

Never again will I sell Girl Scout cookies.

Not that I have anything against them, mind you. In fact, I love them - a bit too much, to be honest - but my daughter became a girl scout shortly before selling season, and I went a bit crazy. I loaded up on boxes from our cookie Mom, knowing full well they'd sell like gangbusters in my office. Of course they did! Until.

Until two weeks into cookie season when suddenly everyone got cookie'd out. I ended up stuck with entirely too many boxes of cookies, and worse, I was stuck with a daughter who mulishly refused to go out and sell any around our cozy, safe neighborhood where she knows every neighbor. She'd gone out once or twice and sold well each time, but after a week of sales, she decided she was done, even if the cookies were not.

Which leads me to tonight.

It started when I pulled up at home and found her playing with her friends instead of selling cookies, as we had agreed she'd do. She lied to me and told me she had tried and no one bought, but the babysitter (and the cookie boxes stacked exactly where I'd left them) confirmed that she had done no such thing. I made my displeasure clear, particularly since I would have to be writing a check to cover those cookies tonight, and the more cookies left over means the more I have to pay for.

This turned into a meltdown of epic proportions as my daughter whined, screamed and yes, cried about how much she hated girl scouts and didn't want to go and why did I ever make her join in the first place (I don't know...probably because she asked me to let her join? What was I thinking!) and so on. By the time we got in the car to head to the meeting, my eyelid was twitching.

Then we arrived and she headed off to practice their skit for an upcoming talent show as I sat down with the cookie Mom, who apparently had no idea that the Scout leader had transferred 22 boxes of my cookies to another troup, and was never informed that I should have a $49 credit for scouting books that I picked up for the troup as well. She just kept demanding that I pay her what I owed her, even though it wasn't what I owed her and I didn't have the money to pay her what she thought I owed her. It was frustrating in the extreme.

Now we add into the mix a rambunctous, eight year old autistic boy who kept calling my name every 23 seconds as he ran from wall to wall across the room, and I was a volcano waiting to erupt. I finally lost it on the cookie Mom, and said (quite heatedly) "Look, I have to write a check for an ASSLOAD of cookies, here! And I'm not writing it for a penny more than I really owe! I don't have the DAMN money!!"

And of course, I said it right in front of a bunch of girl scouts and their mommies who were visibly offended.

Way to go, Mother of the Year.

I took a deep breath, apologized, and luckily the troup leader came over and straightened it all out. Then she told me what a great job Anna was doing in the skit, and I let her know that Anna was going to fulfill her commitment and be in the talent show next week, but after that she would be leaving scouts.

Cue Anna, wailing and upset because she isn't quitting and how dare I say she's quitting. Just then, her brother ran over and pushed her, she pushed back and I slammed an arm around each of them, carrying them like loads of laundry under each arm out into the hallway, fueled by the anger and blood pressure of ten viking warriors. I barked and snapped at them as I shuffled them out the door and to the car.

All I could think on the way home was "Thank God, I'm not a drinking woman."

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