The Ambuscade

It’s not fair. 

They lurk in this case, right at the exit to the store. Lurking. Rocking those “mom” jeans. The brown and green uniforms, dancing along, unknowing.

I’m convinced there’s a kind of addictive substance in the cookies themselves. Try to pry “thin mints,” or whatever from the hands of some people. Not me. Not a problem.

However, they do lie — outright misrepresentation of fact — “serving size, 4 cookies.” Right. Wrong, Girl Scout cookies? Servings per container? 2, I’m thinking the single sleeve serving size.

Still, right outside the door of the store? I never had a chance.