ROXIE REWINDS 💙
Because some stories are just too good not to tell again.
Originally published: 10/2012
The wait is finally over … that’s right, people … it’s GIRL SCOUT COOKIE SEASON! I thought it would never get here. I know I can get cookies at the store—heck, I could probably even make some—but there are some things you just don’t mess with. Keebler, hear me now: you can make a “grasshopper cookie,” but it doesn’t come close to the Thin Mint. Please, just leave it to the professionals.
I learned how to enjoy frozen Thin Mints when I was in high school. I think it was my mother’s attempt to make them last longer… or save them for later. Or hide them from us. Who knows? All I know is that I love to eat them frozen and consider one sleeve to be one serving. I also learned to like frozen whipped cream. I know—I have no shame.
You would think I’d have an aversion to the cookies after my personal experience in Brownies and Girl Scouts. But I don’t. They are boxes of delicious yumminess, and I wait for that knock on my door every year.
[2026 note: back in the day we had to sell those suckers door-to-door! There was no waiting by Dick’s Sporting Goods with an overloaded table of treats. Oh no… we pounded the pavement, baby.]
I’m not knocking the Scouts—I think it’s a wonderful organization… just not for me. My mom signed me up for Brownies when I was 6 or 7, and I hated that brown outfit like no one’s business. Every time I had to wear it, I felt a piece of my self-respect chip off and fall away. What I didn’t realize at the time was that I just didn’t want to be a conformist. But Mumsies said I was joining, so I was in it to win it—beanie and all.
We moved to the opposite coast when I was around 7 or 8, and I somehow ended up in a Girl Scout troop. HOW? And this group of girls was NOT messing around. I was all about selling cookies and getting a prize for selling the most—until I found out that THE COOKIE SALES WERE GOING TO SUPPORT A CAMP-OUT.
A camp-out, folks.
This threw me into a full-blown panic. I was NOT a camper. Brownies was okay because it was mostly arts and crafts, but this? This was not acceptable. I was not about to sleep outside with no kitchen and no bathroom. Plus, who knew what was in those woods? I had to get out of it.
But I’d already sold a shit-ton of cookies, and Mumsies said I had to fulfill my duty and deliver them. She let me cry and complain until the cookies were all safely delivered—and then let me become a quitter. I never went camping and I never looked back.
Let’s fast-forward to when Trixie entered kindergarten. Where, for some unknown reason to us all, I SIGNED HER UP FOR GIRL SCOUTS. Friends, I don’t know what I was thinking.
But there was now a kindergarten-aged scouting group called Daisies, and it sounded cute. And I guess I thought it would be nice for Trixie to socialize a little outside of school. Why I thought I would be able to support her activities if I didn’t like them myself, I’ll never know. And by activities, I mean camping—or huge group overnights of any kind.
But it wasn’t that bad. I made friends with some of the moms, and we took some cute field trips, so it was all good. There was NO camping and only ONE overnight. I was proud of myself for being positive about it, but I cannot tell you HOW relieved I was when we got to said lock-in and Trixie realized we were going to be shut in the building all night with a bunch of squealing girls.
“Get me out of here,” is what her 6-year-old self said.
And so I did. Glory be.
The next year, Trixie still seemed to be enjoying it, so I thought I’d throw my hat in the ring and volunteer to chaperone some events. So I dutifully signed up and waited for the call. I was excited when I found out that I would be helping with the Christmas caroling event! All I had to do was herd them around the neighborhood and make sure nobody fell in a hole or got lost. Right up my alley!
The troop leader told the volunteer moms that there was a hot chocolate and cookie party afterward at her place, and we were welcome to bring something along. So we did.
Only we brought two kinds. One for the kiddos… and one for the moms-only crowd. You know… the kind mixed with peppermint schnapps.
We had a GREAT time! We sang along with the girls, managed not to fall into anyone’s landscaping or shrubs, and got everyone back to the party in one piece. Success! Until… the leader found out about the mommy drinks. Apparently, the scouting organization was not on board with the hooch.
We were informed (shamed) in no uncertain terms that we would not be asked back to any scouting function—chaperoning or otherwise. Uh… did we just get kicked out of the Girl Scouts? Yes, my friends. We did.
The good news is that now we could drop the girls off at their meetings and go get cocktails while we waited. The bad news was that now the other moms knew. Let the raised eyebrows and sideways glances begin!
The next year—AFTER she had sold a shit-ton of cookies—Trixie decided that she wanted to quit. Wow. History really DOES repeat itself. So, I did what Mumsies did… I made her stay until she delivered all the cookies and then let her quit. I have created a Girl Scout quitting legacy.
All things aside… don’t mess with my cookies. I only get Lemonades, Caramel Delights, and Thin Mints once a year. Our family might not be the scouting type, but we will support the organization … one box of cookies at a time.
Another story tucked safely back in the nest.
Thanks for reading ~ Roxie 💙
Roxie Rides Again 