Girl Scouts


Up yours, Girl Scouts. Why do you & your yummy little cookies have to show up just in time for my beach vacation? I haven't done a sit-up in about 2 years, I need to shove myself into a bikini in about 3 weeks, but none of that seems top-of-mind as I rip into yet another box of Samoas. Why can't you start selling your tasty treats in November, when I'm fattening up for the winter & can easily hide the extra pounds under a big sweater and puffy coat? I mean, March!? I'm just coming out of my winter funk, ready to hit the ground running (literally) in preparation for summer, having finally convinced myself that I need a diet to get rid of these last few pregnancy pounds, but no! You have to come knocking at our door, in your cute little Girl Scout sash & hat, and now I'm stuck eating these freaking cookies, box after wonderful box. I know, I know, I could have said no, but that would 1. Be mean and 2. I have little to no will power. So instead, I'll blame the girls & their poor planning. I may need to polish off the last box tonight, just so we'll be rid of them and their seductive powers. Good bye self-control, waste-line & bikini, hello one-piece, poor self-image.


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