Saturday, February 18, 2012
For what is surely to be Daughter's last year of Girl Scouts, I volunteered to handle the Girl Scout cookie booth sales. [You're now thinking about Thin Mints, aren't you? Yummmmmmmm.] On the upside, the troop leader's father -- or "Cookie Grandpa" as he is known -- is taking care of stocking up on the cookies, distributing for individual sales, and delivering and picking up everything needed for the booth sales each shift. In short, the only task I have is getting the girls' parents to sign them up for a shift.
You would think I was asking them to take on a task of Herculean proportions rather than stake a claim for one of 12 1.5-hour shifts. It has been amazingly difficult. Three of the nine other mothers and the girls took repeated attempts to wrangle a commitment out of. Three others never responded to repeated email requests and in-person requests and had no contact with me until yesterday, the day before the first booth sales.
One finally called me after getting the WTF email direct from the troop leader. "I never got your emails," she said. What she meant to say -- and what she eventually admitted to -- was that she never looked in her "spam" folder despite the fact that every new person who sends her an email first goes to a spam folder. If that were the case with my email provider, first, I'd get a new email provider. But if I couldn't do that, I'd at least look in the damn spam folder once a day or every other day or at least once a month.
Another also finally called to say she'd never received anything from me confirming that her precious daughter was selling at the first shift, the shift she had wanted. But had never told me. As to why she never replied to my repeated emails? "I get so many emails each day, like 25! It said 'booth sales,' so I just thought it was coming from someplace like Whole Foods." ??? !!! $*(@()
The third one? Sorry, her daughter isn't available. Why don't I sign up for another set of booth shifts and she can try to make it then? Hahahaha. Ha. Ha.
So Daughter is scheduled for one shift with another girl today. And then she and I are going to cover a three-hour shift by ourselves tomorrow, which is apparently not the Girl Scout way of handling it as there are supposed to be two Girl Scouts in attendance. Perhaps I can wear Daughter's old sash.
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