This Girl Scout cookie typifies my horrible marriage.

[Anonymous]

The title of this thread made me expect that OP would describe a marriage that was withering like stale Samoas, or crumbling like smashed Savannah Smiles ...

[Anonymous]

The only issue is that the Dh cannot account for what was physically handed over on each doorstep. The orders were done correctly and verified. They were received by the scout corrrectly and verified. They were loaded into DHs car correctly. (Presumably op verified this.) But he came back with extras when the correct number coming back home should have been 0.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:In my dd's troop orders are rounded up by the case. So if you order 4 boxes of trefoils you'll have 8 leftover boxes. We had some of every kind left over. It's my understanding a lot of troops do that.

So OP if that is how your kid's troop works you are a huge bitch. (And I don't throw that around). Even if they don't round up you are still terrible. Really. He handled the entire cookies sale? The most annoying part of being a scout? You're giving he grief for extra boxes? You should kiss his feet.

The abundance can be managed by selling more. Giving as gifts. Eating them. They freeze beautifully.

You really didn't read any of this thread, did you?

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:The title of this thread made me expect that OP would describe a marriage that was withering like stale Samoas, or crumbling like smashed Savannah Smiles ...

Even this has already been covered in the thread.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:Where is the sign up sheet with everyone's name and what they ordered?

From the sound of things, it's probably just a sheet of construction paper upon which OP's husband hastily scrawled "COOKIEEESSSSS" in crayon.

I believe this is the case.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:

Anonymous wrote:Where is the sign up sheet with everyone's name and what they ordered?

From the sound of things, it's probably just a sheet of construction paper upon which OP's husband hastily scrawled "COOKIEEESSSSS" in crayon.

While funny this is not the case, otherwise he wouldn't have known the correct number to order in the first place

At some point there was a sheet that had each persons name, how many cookies of each type that person ordered and (hopefully) their address. Where did this list go?

Also, wrt the cookies he and dd actually delivered, how did they know to go to those houses and what items to deliver?

[Anonymous]

As a cookie mom, troop leader, and wife of a man who fucked up my cookie inventory beyond recognition last year by treating it as his own personal snack supply (which resulted in my complete and utter meltdown after taking a redeye home from a work trip), this thread hits so close to home.

[Anonymous]

ok how did they know which houses to go to at all without a list? And if they did have a list, did they simply skip a few houses? Seems like a pretty easy fix, just look back at the list. Did they only deliver partial orders to some of the customers? Seems unlikely, as each customer would want to verify they got their desired cookies as they were handed over.

Did they not check off each box from each order as it was delivered?

Did your husband perhaps pick up more boxes than he ordered?

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:As a cookie mom, troop leader, and wife of a man who fucked up my cookie inventory beyond recognition last year by treating it as his own personal snack supply (which resulted in my complete and utter meltdown after taking a redeye home from a work trip), this thread hits so close to home.

Is he still alive?

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:The title of this thread made me expect that OP would describe a marriage that was withering like stale Samoas, or crumbling like smashed Savannah Smiles ...

Me too!!

[Anonymous]

I thought you were going to say your marriage is like a thin mint or something.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:OP - let him handle the fall out - you let him run with this. Let him finish it.

+1000 not your problem OP. Let him handle it.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:The thing is, the incompetence is selective. It's like the guy who can restrain himself from hitting his boss but not his wife.

For years, my husband would claim he couldn't drive car pool because he couldn't find things like the soccer field -- except that he's an infantry officer who has led people into battle in the dark of night in unfamiliar terrain in a strange country! Gee, so you can find Baghdad, but you can't find the elementary school?

You can keep track of all of your investor's stock trades but you can't figure out how to deliver a bunch of girl scout cookies?

You can build a house but you can't run a rag over the kitchen counters?

there's something wrong ith that scenario!

Ha! Baghdad/ Soccer field. Which is scarier to find?
I feel your pain. My husband "can't figure out" our budget, yet had a $2 million dollar budget he manages at work not including his vendors.

[Anonymous]

Anonymous wrote:As a cookie mom, troop leader, and wife of a man who fucked up my cookie inventory beyond recognition last year by treating it as his own personal snack supply (which resulted in my complete and utter meltdown after taking a redeye home from a work trip), this thread hits so close to home.

Are you going to yell at him again about it tonight? I don't think it's out of line.
Your post makes me a little afraid of you (in a "you sound awesome" kind of way)

[Anonymous]

I solemnly pledge, with my hand on the "Report" button and one over my heart, to keep this thread going until every cookie has been returned to its rightful owner and OP's good name has been cleared and reputation unsullied.