Day 482: Factory Girl.

Two of these three boxes have already left the house.

It's that time of year again, when the kids I work with con me into buying Girl Scout cookies. I'm in for six boxes this year, all of which I will give away.

I know I shouldn't buy any to begin with - they're way too tempting - but I guess I'm just a sucker. It's definitely not rooted in my nostalgic love for the Girl Scout organization - in fact, the Girl Scouts and I did not exactly see eye-to-eye back in the day.

Truth be told, I never even made it to Girl Scouts. My story begins and ends with the Brownies.

We were living in Denver, Colorado, at the time, and I joined the Brownies for one very special reason. It wasn't the camaraderie, the badges, the meetings, or even the highly fashionable brown uniform.

It was the Frito Lay factory.

I'd somehow found out that an upcoming Brownies field trip was to Denver's Frito Lay factory, and I was totally in. I joined that week.

I don't remember much about my short tenure as a Brownie, but I believe my tendency to talk when I wasn't supposed to was poorly received. And I can't say as I remember the Frito Lay tour, either ... I have no way of fact-checking this one, but there's a distinct possibility that I didn't last long enough to actually go.

What I remember more than anything is the light brown outfit, my desire to go to the factory, and an inexplicable awareness that I would never, ever make it to Girl Scouts.

I don't blame the Scouts, though - it's not their fault I was more interested in free chip samples than getting a badge in bird watching (or that I couldn't shut the hell up during meetings).

I don't blame the kids I tutor for pushing their cookies on me, either. I mean, it's not their fault I can't eat just one.