As I approach the store I see the table set up in the foyer. Boxes are neatly stacked. A doe-eyed girl has me in her cross-hairs. Her mother is smiling proudly in anticipation of her little cherub making a sale.
“Would you like to buy some Girl Scout Cookies?”
That’s the question I’ve faced during my last few trips to Kroger. Tonight the same kid got me coming and going.
I make my living raising money for a local non-profit. I certainly understand the need to raise dollars. Heck, I was a girl scout and I sold my share of cookies. But I can’t eat them so I don’t buy them.
When I turn them down, the kids look crest-fallen and the moms look ticked-off. How dare I not buy a lousy box of Thin Mints?*
In the 10 seconds it takes me to pass the cookie table, I have an internal dialogue with the little scout. I tell her that I would love to help her out, but I have an eating disorder and I am highly addicted to sugar. If I eat even one bite of one cookie I’ll throw myself into relapse and I don’t know if I’ll ever come back from that. But that conversation stays in my head.
What actually comes out of my mouth is “No, thank you,” stated with a smile and as sweetly as possible.
*Disclaimer: During my sugar-eating days, I was a Trefoil kind of gal.