I'm in hiding again, as I always am this time of the year.
We're in the thick of Girl Scout Cookie season, after all, and I'm on my winter diet.
I'm easy prey for the young, highly skilled sales ladies who will no doubt one day run our companies and government organizations with tremendous cunning and skill.
So incredibly organized are they, avoiding them is no easy feat.
When I go to the grocery store, I duck in and out through back doors, avoiding the front entrance, where they are posted like security guards.
At home I pull down my blinds and lock the doors, on guard for small gangs of young ladies at my front door who, chaperoned by parents eager for their future CEOs to break Girl Scout sales records, brazenly push their sugary addictions.
I shun social media, where "friends" with Girl Scout-aged children and grandchildren pressure me to buy in bulk — which is the only way I buy once my inevitable relapse occurs.
Wild West opium dens were more energetic than I am after guzzling a gallon of milk and falling asleep on a half-dozen empty boxes of Thin Mints.
(I can't bear to do the math, but if you want the latest nutritional stats on Girl Scout cookies, four Thin Mints cost me 160 calories, 7 grams of fat and 22 grams of carbs.)
Each of my relapses is followed by incredible remorse — a remorse recently made worse by one Girl Scout mom whose Instagram post initiated a backlash against adults like me who joke with Girl Scout salesgirls about why we are not buying their high-fructose-corn-syrup treats.
We are asked to NOT explain that we're on a diet, worried about calories or trying to correct our chubby body flaws.
Worst of all, we should never tell a Girl Scout that we can't keep her cookies in the house because we fear we will eat the whole box before our next meal.
As if there's any other way to consume a box of Girl Scout Cookies.
We are asked to simply tell Girl Scout sales reps, "No, thanks," and move on any without any further editorial commentary.
Why?
Because Girl Scouts are in their formative years and any negative talk about the dangerous products they are hawking, or the dietary struggles of people who hope to avoid them, can food-shame the girls, according to CNN.
OK, fair enough.
But how do we reconcile the concern about protecting the body image of Girl Scout salesgirls with the simple truth that they are hawking unhealthy foods, asks International Business Times?
Ironically, Girl Scouts probably would not be permitted to sell their own cookies at a school bake sale, which many schools ban now.
They've been banned over the past decade because federal government programs are fighting childhood obesity — a national problem brought on in part by the sugary, high-calorie, highly processed junk foods that fill grocers' shelves.
Foods pretty much like Girl Scout Cookies.
Hey, times have changed, Girl Scouts of America. The cookie is on the outs.
The Department of Education suggests school bake-sale fundraisers should be replaced by healthier fundraisers that feature things, such as T-shirts, jewelry and school supplies.
I can think of nearly $1 billion reasons why that's never going to happen.
Now if you'll excuse me, I just heard some young voices approaching my doorstep, and I need to escape to my hiding place.
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