I felt some more gray hairs sprout today. Scratch that, Friday afternoon, when a friend called. “It’s that time again,” she said, as though I was supposed to know. It hadn’t occurred to me what it was she was talking about.
I shouldn’t have asked, but I did “What time is that?”
“Cookie rally is tonight.”
The pause was deafening. For those of you without girl scouts in your family, the Cookie Rally is the start to the official Girl Scout Cookie selling season. The big celebration where paperwork is filled out, signing your life away, promising to pay for the eons of dollars spent on little sugar filled heart attacks doled out by braid and sash wearing young girls trying to earn badges and awards and tickets to the “Superstar Party”. Starts beginning of January. Ends mid-March. It’s hell, I tell you, hell in a hand basket.
Cookie season has befallen us. Smores and Do-Si-Do’s and some new thingamabobs that are gonna be tap dancing on my migraine-filled head.