This post (or plea) is for Daniel, our dad’s carpool buddy and seller of his daughter’s Girl Scout cookies.
We need your help.
A and I are aware that it is Girl Scout cookie time. We are aware because our father, your co-worker and fellow carpooler, told us. Our reaction? Get on it. As in, order a case of delicious Thin Mints.
We love those Thin Mints. A and I prefer to freeze those suckers, because holy heck, that is the only way to eat them.
And we also love those Girl Scouts. They do awesome work like this.
Here’s the deal:
Last night, A came home after a long day of answering phones at her part time job to find partially eaten (and frozen!) Thin Mint next to her laptop. A calculated message from our father, saying that yes, he had ordered some Thin Mints, frozen them how we like them, and had hidden them in our house. After a valiant effort, A and I cannot find said Thin Mints. (And to answer your question, yes. My sister did eat that half eaten cookie. Isn’t that just sad?).
This is driving us crazy. We are busy grad students living with our parents. We don’t have time for this kind of Tom-foolery.
Tonight he came to us while we were watching this movie (finally) and presented A with another half eaten, frozen Thin Mint. (And if you’re wondering again, yes, she ate that one, too.)
He’s an evil, evil man.
You see, he thinks that he is justified because of what happened last year.
A and I share the lower part of the house (I refuse to call it the basement) which houses two of our family’s three freezers. He really shouldn’t have elected to keep them in the freezer last year. the freezer is about ten feet away from where we lay down our heads. Very close for a late night cookie run. Just silly.
However, A and I probably shouldn’t have left the empty Thin Mint boxes in the freezer (the equivalent of the horse head in the bed I suppose) after a series of Thin Mint emergencies*.
It appears that our father is a believer of the thought that “revenge is a dish best served cold”. Or frozen, in this case.
He won’t tell us where the Thin Mints are being hidden. It’s a special kind of torture.
So, Daniel. We need your help. We need the Thin Mints. We are begging you. Please tell us that your sweet kidlets have more to sell.
Because we’re pretty sure the ingredients of those cookies includes this little addition to keep us coming back:
Signed (hungry and confused),
J & A
*Thin Mint Emergency: (def) a moment in time when you really need a cookie (a frozen Thin Mint) and it’s a really rude moment for any parent to question that need. Just give us the damn cookies!