Kathleen McCall:
Occasional�� Muse�

2001-05-30 - 7:05 a.m.

Don't Go To That House, She's Mean

I don't get the whole Girl Scout Cookie thing.

Call me a heretic. But three dollars for a box with, like, twelve cookies?

How do I know how many cookies? Yes, I bought them. I bought them because my very best friend's daughter is a Girl Scout, and that little charmer sells more cookies than the rest of her troupe combined. And her Mommy has to do the hustle, too, you betcha. During the season, Mommy's house looks like the Nabisco Distribution Center. For her, I buy them. And of course, I know we're not buying cookies, we're financing a wholesome organization for our daughters.

I don't care. It's a rip. You can quote me.

If I'm gonna spend three dollars on twelve cookies, I'm going down to the bakery and pick out just the ones I want, and I'm going to bring them home in a nice pink box. I'm going to get some of those butter-swirl thingies, the ones that they sometimes put fruit in the center but I like the ones that don't have fruit, and some of those Danish Lace ones that are so crispy, and maybe a couple of the powdered-sugar pecan ones that melt in your mouth....wait a sec...what were we talking about?

Oh, yeah. Cookie sales.

I send my daughters to school, and later with some luck college, so they can have fruitful and fulfilling careers. That's fruitful, not fruit-filled. But the schools and organizations seem determined to train them into being door-to-door salespeople. If it's not cookies, it's disposable cameras or wrapping paper or holiday mints.

Okay, the schools need the money. The Girl Scouts need the money. Can I just write them a cheque at the beginning of the year, and get the kids excused from huckstering cameras? I mean, I'm either going to spend it all at once, or I'm going to rummage under the sofa cushions for quarters to appease somebody's elfin George Oreck at my door. And when I do that, I get this box of a dozen cookies that I don't even like.

Can you tell that my kids are never the ones that win the scooters or the skating parties in the fund-raisers? They're not, cause Mama don't do that drive-around door-to-door thing. Mama dropped out of BlueBirds before they made her do the mint routine, and Mama ain't raising any door-to-door salesgirls. Huh-uh. Not here.

Yeah, I'm a crank. But I never had to sell anything to be allowed to go to grade school. They even GAVE us pencils and paper. They would have given us glue sticks, if they'd been invented. Now the only things my kids get given at school are glossy flyers exhorting them to "Sell, sell, sell!"

We're going to fund schools and organizations for our children, because we need them. But excuuuuuuuuuse me, I think financial responsibility lies in the hands (and wallets) of people more than eight years old. It's an adult transaction. Bill me and I'll pay. But I want us both to know that I'm buying education, not wrapping paper. Keep the cookies and cameras, and spend your time helping my children prepare for something a little more enriching than a career with Fuller Brush.

I don't turn the kids down; how could I? These are mostly kids too little to be able to read "No Soliciting". My issues aren't with the kids. They aren't even with the mommies who CAN read the sign, waiting at the curb. They're with the school and club administrators, who seem to think children are a perfectly justifiable fund-raising tool. And I have yet to see any of THOSE folks going door-to-door.

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