“ You can’t always get what you want, well you can try sometimes, but you just might find, you get what you need”
Take Girl Scout cookies, for instance. I really wanted them and I got them, though this year’s boxes are noticeably lighter. There are definitely fewer of those delicious, life-affirming, pastries of love and decadence in each clear plastic sleeve. A lot fewer. I think the price even went up a bit. And why not? Those little cutie-pie salesgirls know they got us…by the tastebuds.
A knock on the door, a quick, gap-toothed grin from the sweet little badge-sashed scout and before I know it, the sign-up card is firmly in my grip. I gaze lovingly, longingly at each cookie photo. I read each description so thoroughly and completely that the little wide-eye Girl Scout gremlin begins to shift from one foot to the next out of sheer boredom. I don’t care. These boxes of confectionery love are a mid-winter pick-me-up, a ritual, a bright spot, and a harbinger of Spring! So, she can cool her jets for a moment and get a lesson in learning the patience portion of The Art of the Sale.
I placed the order and promptly began to dream of delivery day while also silently vowing to not let happen this year what had happened every other stinkin’ year…”The Night of a Thousand Cookies”. Yup, this is a personal, rather unsavory, and embarrassing cookie confession. It might even be NSFW. (just kidding)
I have, on more than one occasion, (every year) awakened in a bed littered with empty plastic sleeves and trays of Thin Mints, Trefoils, etc. Crumbs are everywhere. There’s chocolate on my pillow and a bit more smeared on my face, a half-eaten Samoa still clutched in my hand. Regret, slight nausea, and a modicum of twisted satisfaction wash over me simultaneously. It’s a special kind of shame for a midnight raid on the “secret cookie hiding place”. (Oh yeah, like this hasn’t happened to you!!)
However, THIS year, fewer cookies per box=less regret! Thank heavens there are fewer in each sleeve. Thank you, Girl Scouts and all of you bean-counting cookie-crats who decide how many discs of sugary love it takes per box to make a profit.
I got what I wanted; a soul-satisfying moment with a good cookie (or 12), and perhaps just what I needed…a bit less of a good thing. So true of so many things. But, that’s another story for another time….