Small female children keep ringing my doorbell and insisting that I ordered various amounts of Girl Scout cookies. I am not one to question the honesty of anyone under the age of ten, so I just nod blankly and write out a check. Then they hand me cookies. I have so far amassed twelve boxes, and something tells me there are more to come.
Trefoils anyone? Thin Mints? Do-Si-Dos. Just lemme know.
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