Realization of Epic Devastation

Let's rewind about 19 years, shall we?

If you don't want to do the math, that's 1992. That was the year that me and my fellow Troop 1812 Brownies crossed the bridge to the green of being a Girl Scout.

(It's a picture of a picture, forgive me.) I'm second from the left, not looking.

Every year, we would kick some major butt selling those little boxes of baked gold: Girl Scout Cookies.

Over the years, my tastes have matured and I could eat a box of Samoas in one sitting. Or Tagalongs. Or Thin Mints. Or Trefoils. Or Lemon Creme Chalets. OK, so really, my tastes haven't matured, I just realized that I don't have the metabolism that allows for 20 cookies in 20 minutes. I digress.

Here's where I have a realization of EPIC devastation. Those little bitches don't make gluten-free cookies. Great. Now, I have to exit my grocery store in shame as I duck from those little cookie peddlers. I am normally of the "I'll buy a box from any Girl Scout because I remember being a cookie pusher" and totally tell them my Troop number. (Troop 1812 for lliiiiiiifffffeeeee) I would get the weird, stranger-danger look in response as they took my money and handed be a box of what equivocally is crack.

So, this year, to keep temptation of a gluten-induced full body swelling and ache, I'll have to dodge the girls and find another way to donate to the Girl Scout values. Hey, I did my time as a Brownie, Girl Scout and counselor at a summer camp, so my Girl Scout karma is still on the good side.

What's your absolute favorite Girl Scout cookie? Need to know when they're coming to your area? Click here for the varieties and sale information. Oh, and what's with other cookies trying to taint the classic mix? Thank-A-Lots? Doesn't sound as delicious as a Samoa.

Although, now that I think of it, why is a cookie named after an island in Micronesia? Weird.