Outnumbered Two to One

1. Never assume that because a child is wearing his swim trunks, running toward the inviting water sprays of a clearly designated “splash area”, and screaming “yay” at the top of his lungs, that he actually wants to get wet.
2. Be prepared for the wild-monkey-screeching that said child will emit when confronted with the reality of ice cold water.
3. Expect him to ask you for a paper towel, before burying his wet face in to your dry pants and remaining there for the duration of the trip.
4. Realize he may at some point talk himself in to braving the rapids because clearly the other children are having so much fun. He will approach the perimeter of the splash area at a run before talking himself out of it, turning around and running back to you sobbing and asking for another paper towel.

Next time, leave the swim trunks at home.

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Sadly, this is what’s left of my husband’s recent Girl Scout Cookie purchase. I should be grateful that the temptation to binge on chocolate covered minty goodness and coconut caramel heaven has been eliminated, but the sad fact is I didn’t even get a single, pathetic lick of a cookie, much less an entire serving, before my children completely devoured our cookie ration.

I like to feel I’m doing my part to help the Girl Scouts out. Not by participating in any way, shape, or form, but by buying and eating and savoring their products in a carefully managed allotment, so that my yearly purchase can last me as long as humanly possible. This strategy helps me feel that I’m contributing in some small way to the Girl Scouts’ courage, confidence, and character building.

When my kids join forces to rob me of that experience, well that’s like mutiny…or something. It’s like a revolt, I mean it’s certainly revolting to me that I didn’t get a taste of a single Samoa. I’m not a perfect mom, but I’ve taught my kids the basics - don’t bite people, don’t eat your boogers, brush your teeth sometimes, share your toys. That last one applies to cookies too, dammit.

Did I have to spell it out for them? Did I have to be that specific? Maybe the right strategy would’ve been stashing the cookies in an undisclosed location then doling them out one at a time at my discretion…which would be never…muhuhuhahahaa (that’s my evil laugh, in case you’re not familiar).

Do as I say not as I do and all that…I’ll share the regular cookies with them - Chips Ahoy, Oreos - the special ones are mine next year…all mine.

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Cause some people don’t want to keep it Wordless apparently.