And then I remembered, Girl Scout cookie orders are due this Wednesday.
I can't stand cookie season. The sale is supposed to be a learning experience for the girls, to teach them self confidence or working towards a goal or some crap like that, while raising money for the organization. Of course, the girls are responsible for selling the cookies, but we all know who really sells them.
When I was a Girl Scout, my father was the nightshift nursing supervisor at a hospital and he sold so many boxes that my entire troop went to Six Flags two years in a row. So compared to my Dad, my salesmanship is pretty lame.
Since I don't work in an office and Hubs has all of five people in his office, neither of us can count on our jobs to get rid of very many. Which means we're forced to hit the streets. Today, we'll traipse the neighborhood trying to sell a few more boxes. Girlie hopes to sell 80 boxes so she'll earn some dollar store panda from the incentive catalog, but we'll probably land somewhere closer to thirty boxes.
I'm pretty sure my Dad, I mean, I sold three hundred boxes.
