Updated on April 24, 2006
Girl Scout Cookies
One of the responsibilities of a father is to unconditionally support his children’s’ activities. Anissa is into ballet and Girl Scouts. Chris plays basketball and will play soccer. Hannah goes to interpretive movement classes. Once or twice a year, the Girl Scouts take precedence to almost anything else.
It’s Girl Scout cookies time. The Girl Scouts have an excellent marketing plan with this idea. Their plan is to start selling cookies in January. Why is that so good? Well, everyone has had a month to try losing all that weight they put on during the holidays. After 30 days of starvation, puking, salads, and laxatives these people are joshing (which here means craving) for anything to make them feel human again. What better way to “take a break” than Girl Scout Cookies?
So, as a father, it’s my duty to walk with Anissa all over the place and let her get her first taste of what it’s probably like to sell Kirbys. The only difference is the that cookies are a couple dollars cheaper and you don’t have to worry about attachments. You just eat them and they go away (unless you eat a lot, then they stay with you for a long time). She’s actually doing really well. I never did that well selling Girl Scout cookies, mostly because I was never a Girl Scout. I think she’s sold about $650 worth of cookies which equals about 130 boxes. My daughter has a huge advantage in that she has a face people can’t say no to. She’s a cute little girl who is quiet and shy. People can’t help but buy from her. Another thing is that a lot of soldiers from here are deployed and the wives and neighbors want to send them cookies as well. I remember getting Girl Scout cookies sent to me when I was in Iraq and they were like gold. I was offered up to $15 for a box, but wanted the cookies instead.
Before I move on, if you’d like to buy cookies from my daughter, send me a check for $5.00 per box and a mailing address and we’ll ship them to you. The cookies arrive on 26 February and would be mailed immediately. If you’d to buy some for a deployed soldier, send me the money and the address and name you want them mailed to and I’ll send them out. You can email me for my address: firstname.lastname@example.org.
I’m back at work today for a few hours. Not a lot going on really, so I’m writing in here. Tomorrow I have to go to a Sexual harassment class. No, I wasn’t directed – everyone is taught how to sexual harass people equally! It’s one of the many classes we have to attend that make your skin crawl. It’s pounded into us all year, then they have a day set aside for it each quarter to make sure the nail doesn’t get loose. But, I’ll pretend I never heard of sexual harassment and listen to the instructor as if he’s just discovered a new planet. I’m going to have my wife paint fake eyes onto my eyelids so I can sleep and still look awake.
I rode my motorcycle to work today. I missed my motorcycle. There’s just something about riding a motorcycle that you have to experience to understand. People are so afraid of motorcycles because almost everyone has a friend or relative who has died or been seriously injured on one. I have a lot of scares from motorcycles from back when I used to ride dirtbikes. But, I learned something about riding: you have to be vigilant and aware of your surroundings. I never had to worry about that until I bought a sport bike and had to ride in traffic. People just don’t see you (or don’t look). I think all street bikes should come with a coax 7.62mm machine gun attached to the fairings or windshield. That way, when I’m cut off or run off the road, I can exact instant revenge. During daylight, I ride with my bright lights on in the hopes that I’ll be a little harder to miss. I’ve never had an accident on a motorcycle while riding on the street. My philosophy is that you have be faster than the accident and you’ll be okay. hehe. That’s why I ride fast bikes. And because I hit my midlife crisis early!! I’ll settle down when I’m older. And my definition of old is this: You’re only old when it hurts to pee!!
I just found out that I’m NOT going to Iraq for a month. That’s a relief. It’s also another sign that I’ve just realized. While I was in Iraq the first time during the war, I had three separate experiences in which I thought I was about to die. Each time I made my peace and said my silent goodbyes to my family and friends. Luckily, I lived through each event somehow. Actually, there’s not somehow about it. I shot straighter than they did!! Anyway, I’ve practically volunteered for a combat zone three times since I got back. When I got orders to leave Fort Stewart, GA I asked to have them cancelled because I found out that the unit was going back and I didn’t want my soldiers over there without me looking out for them. Denied!! The second time I was asked to be an NCOIC in one of the Task Force staff shops in Afghanistan. I agreed and sent my paperwork to volunteer. Denied!! Then, the unit I’m with now decided to send some trainers and planners to Iraq to observe the current situation over there in order to devise more realistic training scenarios here for soldiers getting ready to deploy. Denied!! I’m taking this as the last sign that there must be some reason I’m not going back over there. Perhaps I used up all my luck the last time I was there and someone up above is protecting me. So, I will not volunteer a fourth time. If I’m needed over there, the Army will send me without asking. They haven’t had a problem doing that yet!
In the meantime, I’m gonna keep calling myself……..