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Every year I tell myself ‘one won’t hurt’

POSTED: March 7, 2012 4:00 a.m.

Every year about this time, I make the same solemn vow to myself: No more Thin Mints.

Not just because I try to watch my weight, but mainly because I have celiac and am not supposed to eat anything with gluten.

I say that every year -and every year, I break my promise.

I always justify it by saying that I am supporting the Girl Scouts and that is a worthy cause; I even blame the cuteness of the girls, while I praise their entrepreneurship as they sit outside Walmart in near freezing temperatures with their tables of cookies.

But in the end, I end up taking home about five boxes and asking the troop leader if they have ever thought about taking debit cards.

I always swear they are for my husband and son and I am not going to eat one.

Then that first sleeve of Thin Mints is torn open and I find myself saying: "Well, maybe one won't hurt me..."

One may not, but the subsequent dozen or so usually knocks me for a loop.

I did it again this year.

I ordered five boxes - and then waited in agony for them to arrive.

"When are the Girl Scout cookies getting here?" Cole would ask each night.

"I don't know," I would reply.

Then we saw those adorable salespeople set up in the bank parking lot with tents, hawking their boxes at the passing traffic.

"Mama! Turn this car around - there's Girl Scout cookies!"

I told him we had five on the way and had to be patient.

We both had to be patient.

About a week later, I picked up my order and said yet again, I was not going to eat the first one. "These are for my son and husband," I told the lady.

She looked and smiled, knowing a blatant lie when she heard one.

I guess rattling off quantities and knowing the names of just about every Girl Scout cookie available gave me away.

"You got five boxes?" my husband asked when I returned to the car.

"Yes," I said.

No lying there - I was holding the evidence.

"I thought I could send a box of the Savannah Smiles to school for snack. And the Trefoils are really for Mama."

"You think any of these boxes are gonna make it the weekend?" he asked.

I nodded, even convincing myself. As long as that first roll of Thin Mints stayed securely wrapped in my presence, I would do fine.

"Who's the Thin Mints for?" Lamar asked.

"You and Cole."

Lamar knew I was lying that time. He opened a box and popped one of those delicious chocolate minty cookies in his mouth and sighed, sealing my fate.

"Maybe one won't hurt me," I said.

By Sunday afternoon, Cole and I were cookie-d out.

"Never again will I eat another Thin Mint," I said.

Cole groaned and agreed with me that we would never eat another Thin Mint.

That was over a week ago and the boxes are long gone.

However, if you do know a Girl Scout who has any extra Thin Mints, send her my way.

Sudie Crouch is an award-winning humor columnist and certified life coach. She lives in the north Georgia mountains with her family and four insane, but fairly well behaved dogs.

 

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