My name is Shaun and I eat Girl Scout cookies.  I eat a lot of Girl Scout cookies.  Samoas are my favorite but any will do. I like a box row of them best just before bed.  But anytime will do.  They make me happy.

One year I bought 72 boxes of Girl Scout cookies.  I did this using money I was paid to sing about a man who taught us to ask only for our daily bread.  I forgot about him when the doorbell rang.  Those Girl Scouts are like little ninja Zig Zigglers I tell you.  They have mind powers.  I’m defenseless against them.

Last year I only bought a handful of boxes.  It was a baby step.  But this year?  I’m off the wagon again.

Becky and I teach 2nd and 3rd grade Sunday school.  Well, I teach when I’m in town, which is about once a month.  And that once a month, not long ago, was the one Sunday a cute little button named Brook listened intently as I told the story of the ten plagues.  She made me a paper airplane.  She told me she was going to have a little brother or sister soon.  Then, with my defenses down, with me convinced she was just a cute little girl in a pretty dress and bows, she quickly shoved a folded Girl Scout cookie order form into my face.  “Would you like to buy some cookies, Mr. Shaun?”

What was I supposed to do?

I bought cookies.  Lots of cookies.  And in the days ahead, more cookies from other little girls in dresses and bows.  It’s.  Not.  Fair.  Or my fault.

16 boxes of Samoas. 5 boxes of Tagalongs. 

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And four boxes of Thin Mints for Becky who, it turns out, has less than stellar taste in men and cookies.

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We all have a vice.  I have boxes of them.  What’s yours?

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