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Thursday, January 06, 2005

The gates of hell yawn open before me. Today marks the official start of girl scout cookie sales.

This year, Sophie is expected to sell seventy of the accursed boxes. Actually, what they said was, at least seventy boxes.

No pressure or anything, but if each of the nine girls in the troop doesn't meet her 70-box quota, then the girls don't get to go horseback riding when the sales are over.

So I get home this evening, tired and rather disheveled after a non-stop day, kids are all throwing various impossible questions at me (how can I build a device that will protect an egg from a fifteen foot fall? What's cell theory? What's for supper?)and getting shriller and shriller as I try to flee from them - and the door-bell rings before I've even made it through the laundry and into the house proper. Some kid selling fucking girl scout cookies.

There better be some kind of cookie reciprocity agreement in this neighbourhood, that's all I can say.

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