We all know that scouting's a joy,
Good for every girl and good for every boy.
But the month of March, I must confess,
I like Scouting less and less.
The Girl Scout Cookies, friends, are here,
Into the boxes, I do LEER.
My little scout had a special zeal,
To win a prize was the promised deal.
100 boxes was her goal,
A nifty prize if all were sold.
And so I've cookies everywhere,
Under the table, behind the chair.
Some in the freezer and some in the mail.
I will NOT eat them. I will NOT fail!
But confidentially, between you and me,
I will be happy and so relieved to see.
The last box delivered and out of my sight.
Let the neighbors get fat. Let their clothes get tight.
It' just not worth it, my Weight Watchers friends.
"I choose to be thin"...so this poem ends!
Don't know who wrote this but it must have been a Mother to a Scout!