Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Mandatory Troop Meeting regarding Girl Scout Cookie Sales

I am a Girl Scout leader. The following is a transcript of a recent troop meeting. 
[It is also satire and completely made up.]

Girls, please be seated. Parents, welcome. We're here to discuss this year's cookie sales. As your leader, it's my duty to inform you that the time is upon us. Girls, you must now put away childish things and begin your journey toward entrepreneurial leadership. The days of Doc McStuffins and organic juice boxes are behind you. Throw these things in the fire, for they mean nothing now. We will roast our s’mores from their acrid flames.

Now down to business. If we don’t exceed our sales goals from last year, you can all just forget about Hershey Park. Do you think destination trips through Amish country to a place where milk chocolate literally flows in the streets just happen by accident? No. We have to earn it, and it will mean sacrifice. 

Per the rules of the Council, this entire experience must be “girl-led”. Do you know what that means? It means that Jenny’s mother must meet her quota this year or the entire troop will suffer for her insolence and lack of commitment.

I know the sales process is hard, but there is a reason for everything. They make us walk the streets on the darkest, coldest days of the year. But from this, growth. I know you were cold and shivering last year, but like I told you then; "You have miles to go before you sleep and only twelve more boxes ’til you earn that Cookie CEO patch". 

I'm looking at you, Brianna. Jesus.
Technically, this is a “friends and family” sale. But is not all of mankind our family? Does the man lurking behind the bowling alley not deserve the chance to enjoy our Thin Mints? Show some compassion and initiative. He is deserving of our friendship and he is a potential sale.

I'm not sure why, but there seems to be some confusion with the terms “canvassing your neighborhood” and “being an early-bird”. It's simple, those things mean get your keisters out there and ring those damn doorbells before anyone else. It’s like you don’t know what’s at stake, Brianna.   

Yesterday, "The Reaping" took place. Emily, your mother was selected to represent us. She woke at dawn and battled to see whose troop got the good cookie booth locations and whose troop will suffer in the cold, languishing by the North Wall and selling to the Wildling hordes. 

We received word a few minutes ago that Emily’s mother gave her life to secure our locations for this year. In doing so, she has strategically positioned us for victory. We will sell our cookies in the fertile land between Walmart and Chipoltle, near the dirtiest 7-11. The other troops will stand unprotected outside of the hardware store or the Safeway, cold and desolate. We honor Emily's mother and her noble sacrifice. 

Remember last year? Remember the troop from that other school during their booth sale? Yes, the one we watched from behind the van. Remember how they made the little ones stand in the front? "Smile", they said. "You’re so cute, show the people how cute you are and sell those cookies. I said SMILE. You with the pimples, tall girl, stand in the back and stack the cases of Tagalongs."

They will do anything. Never forget that. Hark. A messenger approaches. [Accepts message, closes eyes. Nods solemnly.]
You don't do your best. You do what's
required. Winston Churchill said that.

The Council has spoken. The doors of the cookie depot have opened and we must fulfill our promises. So deliver! And do it now! Snow is coming and for our neighbors to be homebound with cookies is our greatest desire. That is when the siren call of the Samoa is impossible to resist, and when the re-orders happen.

The troop’s Cookie Manager and Enforcement Officer will report back when you've completed the process of delivery and collection. If we succeed and everyone does their part, then when the weather warms and the flowers bloom again we will go Hershey Park triumphantly. At that time you may each resume your childhoods and will receive one Shopkin as a token of my appreciation. No go forth! And know that I am proud of you. 

Wait. Not you, Brianna. 

(c) Mommyland Blogs 2013-2016

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