It’s Girl Scout cookie season and time for me to face the truth about my daughter: she is a Samoas fiend.

I came home one day, and my daughter said, “I bought some Samoas. I left you the last row.”

To which I said, “Thank you, I know that was hard for you, and I’m not being sarcastic. I really mean that.”

I had one or two, went to bed, and the next day, she was working on the rest of them. I said, “Can you leave me two, please?”

If you could have seen the look on her face. It was very Stanley from The Office.

She did it, but she clearly was not happy about it.

Last Sunday, I went to a church event, and one of the little girls was selling cookies. I bought a box of Samoas, then bought another one because I wanted to share them with my daughter, but I also knew she couldn’t be trusted. My plan was to share a box with her and keep one for myself, which I did.

After sharing some from the first box with her and my friend, there were about two and a half rows left. Do you know how much was left when I got up the next day? None. Zero. Zip. My kid absolutely destroyed the rest of the box in one night. So my instincts were right, and it’s good I had my backup box.

However.

She went into my room for some reason and saw them. Incredulously. she asked, “You got another box and you’re hiding them from me?”

To which I replied, “I sure am.”

She scoffed, of course, but I refused to share them with her and then actually hid them. (They were on my bed or something before.) She went looking for them and couldn’t find them. And every day since then, she will mean mug me and ask, “Where are the Samoas? I know you still have some.”

My daughter is a tiny slip of a thing, so when I told my friend she destroyed my box, my friend basically said, “That little itty bitty baby? I refuse to believe!” Well, believe it. As my daughter says, when it comes to sugar, she grows three stomachs.

Anyway, her birthday is next week, and she asked for two boxes of Samoas. I told her if I run into any Girl Scouts, I will honor that gift request.

As for the Samoas hidden in my room, I’ll never tell where they are. Not that it matters. By the time she gets back from work this weekend, they will be fully in my belly.