The Girl Scout and the…

It was noon on Saturday when the doorbell rang.   The house was silent for a brief moment before a bunch of little faces ran to all the front-facing windows.  My kids know Mommy has problems and doesn’t open the door unless we are expecting someone.  So they do the most embarrassing thing and just stare at the poor person while I tell them in the loudest whisper to get away from the door.  It’s awful.  The person always knows we are home.  Sometimes they knock or ring twice, probably assuming I have to wade through children before I can answer.

Anyway, back to today.  Door rang.   I looked out the peephole and saw a little girl about 7 or 8.  How much could she want?  So I answered – to the shock of my kids.

“Do you want to buy some Girl Scout cookies?”  she asked politely.

“Sure!”  I mean, who doesn’t?  I took her sheet from her and began looking over all the cookies, even though I used to sell them myself as a kid and therefore already know what I want.

“Have you tried these Dulce de Leche kind?” I asked.  She shook her head.  She said she liked the Samoas.  I looked some more, contemplating over Thin Mints, peanut butter patties and some new kind…

My daughter, who had been originally spying on the girl from the window before I answered the door, came forward and began talking to her.  She is the chattiest person alive.

“We have a cat named Tiger,” she said.  I didn’t hear the girl respond.  “Tiger is a boy and he likes to meow like this.”  She got on all fours and began meowing.  The girl began to giggle.  I assumed she was giggling at my daughter.  I think my daughter assumed the same, as she continued telling more stories and imitating our cat.  The girl giggled a bit more as I continued to stare at the paper.

Then I became aware of my newly potty-trained  3-year old standing behind us.  I turned and looked and saw that he was standing there, sans underwear.  I forgot that he had been upstairs using his potty!

“Oh my gosh!” I exclaimed.  “I am so sorry!  He is just learning how to use the potty…” I grabbed the 3-year old and told him to go upstairs.  He wouldn’t.  Instead, he jumped up and down and giggled.  So I closed the door with only my body wedged between it and quickly filled out the rest of the form.  He opened the door and smiled at the girl.  “I’m so sorry!”  I said again.  I handed her back the form.

“Thank you,” she said sweetly.

As I was closing the door, I heard a woman’s voice thank me also.  I wonder where she had been hiding!




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