Cookie Mom

Kelsey was a Girl Scout for many years. Both she and her amazing leader stuck with the troop for the duration. With Lisa’s help, Kelsey worked her way up the ranks to earn her Gold Star, the GS equivalent of the Eagle Scout. For graduation from high school, Kelsey requested a lifetime membership in the organization.

So when younger daughter Lily wanted to join Girl Scouts, we were delighted. There’s no telling how far she will choose to go, but for now she’s having a great time.

Because of Kelsey’s long history, we’re well indoctrinated in the way of the Girl Scout cookie. With five active kids, we have decades of fundraising sales experience, and these fabulous favorites are one thing we’ve never had trouble selling. Most people are thrilled to see us coming, and more than happy to purchase a box of Thin Mints.

When Lily’s troop was looking for parents to organize the sale, I volunteered to be a cookie mom. Last year there were three of us, and this year only two, but in reality that’s the perfect number. I kind of inserted myself into the position of lead cookie mom. I like the job because most of the time I can run my own game. Of course there are deadlines, and there are girls (and parents) who do not respect the deadlines, but for the most part we’re all getting the hang of this.

What few people realize is that GS cookies are a multi-million dollar enterprise. The majority of the organization’s revenue, at all levels, is generated through these sales. And the Girls Scouts have it down to a science. There are rules and procedures that must be followed, and precious little grace at the upper levels.

I’m still learning a lot about all of this, but here are the broad strokes: first, the girls take orders for the cookies. The girls get incentives based on their sales, some of the incentives are actually pretty good. My favorite incentive, new this year, is that selling 50 boxes or more means the girl won’t have to pay dues next year. Finally, an incentive for the parents!

The troop will retain something like 55 cents per box, and the local council also gets a cut. Some of the money travels up the food chain, and some of it goes to offset costs. The cookie mom collects all the paperwork and places the troop’s order. Troops purchases cookies by the case, so if the orders of a given cookie are not divisible by 12, your troop is responsible to the balance of the cookies in that case. Usually selling a few extra packs, or absorbing the cost and serving them at a troop meeting, isn’t too big a deal.

Once all the troops have ordered, the regional pickup is scheduled.  All the cases of cookies for all of the troops in a given area are brought to a central location so the troops can come to collect them. In our area, the regional pickup is at the local fire house, which is really the perfect location.

This year I volunteered to help with this, and it was actually pretty fun thanks to the uber-organizational skills of our regional cookie mom. Early in the morning, a moving truck began unloading dozens of skids of cookies, each stacked 10 feet high. Before we could tear open the shrink wrap, each skid had to be counted (twice). Then we could start organizing by troop. There is a pick-up schedule, so we go in order, counting and double checking, and when the troop’s pick-up person arrives, the cases are counted again, and then loaded into vehicles. Most troops have well over 100 cases, which requires a fairly large vehicle. There have been years when people in small cars have had to call for reinforcements, but this year everything goes smoothly. The math works out, which I find amazing given the complexity of the story problem.

Most of us still have to sort the cookies for our own troops, and we still have to help our own daughters with distribution, and some of us have a few extra boxes that we’ll have to sell. (I still have some of the cranberry—they’re delicious! Let me know if you’re interested!)

But when the last Samoa is loaded in, there is pizza and conversation, and the satisfaction of a job well done. I didn’t grow up a Girl Scout, but I’m proud to be one now.