Monday, January 21, 2013

My Daisy

There she was, ringing my bell, just as promised.  Her big sister and I were inside, barely able to finish opening the front door before she began her spiel.
She introduced herself with a knowing grin. She smiled, made eye contact, and spoke loudly and clearly as she stated the reason for her visit.  She offered a shiny brochure,
all the while reassuring me that the cookies were in the car, and delivery would be immediate.  Still, I was allowed to fondle the folder.  I was the customer, and the young lady was looking to close a sale.

Little Cuter requested one box of Thin Mints, and G'ma will be pleasantly surprised if I show up at the pod-castle with something vaguely familiar from her past.
Two boxes seemed like a reasonable purchase, until I saw the newest addition to the pantheon of boxed goodies: 
"Yes, that's a new product," my Daisy Scout was pleased to inform me.  The trefoil shortbread cookies were trying to tempt me, but I couldn't resist a cookie called savanna smiles.  Note the lack of capitals; this is an unprepossessing little bite of heaven and if you haven't placed your order yet I recommend that you head right over to your neighborhood seven year old and procure a box or two.

The nutritional information is right on the package, along with the pictures of healthy girls doing healthy things. The box goes on to inform me that there are five life skills the girls are learning through going door to door, selling cookies. I can't argue with goal setting, decision making, money management, people skills and business ethics.  Watching my seven year old human comport herself with dignity and delight warmed the cockles of my heart, and I told her so. She beamed.  She grew two inches taller as I complimented her bearing and her presentation.

Then, I invited her in, as I wrote the check.  She's Amster's faux-daughter; she's been in my house dozens of times in the two years we've been friends. Yet, she paused.  She stood stock still, searching her memory banks, considering.

"If you're not allowed to come in while you're selling the cookies, I understand.  Rules are rules," I said, trying to let her off the hook.

"No, you're not a stranger," and, as she crossed the threshold, she clued me into the Daisy policy on selling to strangers. Once she got started, there was no stopping her.  She recited the Girl Scout Pledge ... several times... each of her right hands and fingers in the Spock-like position.

I didn't want it to end.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, there was more.  Tucson Electric Power has partnered with the Girl Scouts of Southern Arizona in a collective effort to save enough electricity to power more than 400 homes for a full year!
Not only did I get cookies, I got a light bulb, too.  

Life was good this morning, yes, indeed.  

5 comments:

  1. She's a cutie. I spent hours -- in cold, cold weather -- going door to door in the 1950s. I was painfully shy, so giving the speech, "I'm selling Girl Scout cookies. Would you like to buy a box," took a lot out of me. But as we all know, I'm not shy anymore and it helped me along the road. My was that a different world.

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    Replies
    1. My Daisy's speech was well rehearsed and zoomed through with nary a breath. Shyness is not her concern :) Glad to hear the scouts helped you along the way.
      a/b

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  2. I did it in the '40's. We always went in pairs but I don't remember any rule about it. It was just more fun. I think we did go inside when invited. We were clueless.

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    Replies
    1. I went alone so that no one could steal my sales, Marlu. I went to strangers, I went to businesses, and I never worried. Clueless were we... and our parents!
      a/b

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  3. So cute! Both my girls are Girl Scouts. Hubby is the cookie dad for my 11 year-old's troop. I never realized how much work went into the whole cookie campaign.

    We are all battling the flu at my house. We all had flu shots--except hubby. He's allergic to poultry. Hopefully, it will not be bad. I'm going back to bed.

    Happy MLK day.


    Megan xxx

    ReplyDelete

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