I’m a bad brain. I shoulda posted on Tuesday, but I was getting over a sprained ankle and broken glasses. And the dog ate my homework (despite the Xanax). And I couldn’t decide whether to write about Boxtops or Girl Scout Cookies.

I’m going with the cookies.

This is YG’s third year selling Girl Scout Cookies, and her second with her current, and really excellent, troop. In fact, it’s a Mega-Troop: our Fearless Leader (and believe me, I mean that) has five sub-troops under her aegis, from Daisy to Senior level, and last year the 90 girls sold 40,000+ boxes of Girl Scout Cookies. Yes, you read that right: 40,000. Last year YG sold 560 boxes. This year she aims for 1000 and the Hall of Fame (which comes with a special patch and many excellent perks and prizes). Naturally, in order to accomplish this feat, she needs support.

That’s me. Ms. Support.

The kid is doing pretty well so far: Thursday she went ’round her father’s office distributing the cookies pre-ordered. She’s a world-class shmoozer: not only chats up people as she’s making change and handing out cookies, but made additional sales as we were walking around the labyrinthine hallways of the company. I was merely the one who handed her the cookies and checked things off the list.

On Saturday we had our first booth sale: table, table-cloths, Mylar balllons, boxes (and boxes!) of cookies, and two cute 11 year old girls chorusing the virtues of Girl Scout Cookies. We sold 108 boxes (and would have sold as much again if we hadn’t run out of Thin Mints and Samoas). Today, we sold three dozen boxes in our sleepy neighborhood “downtown” area between ten and noon; the kid got sunburned and dehydrated, but her heart is strong.

There are many theories of how to sell cookies. Barricade yourself in with 100 cases of cookies and sell like mad (one of the girl’s pals sold 700 boxes yesterday that way. Put all the boxes you can under the table (to keep them out of the sun) and keep a clear selling area. Have the girls sing or chant. Don’t have the girls sing or chant. Thus far, between this and that, the kid has sold about 300 boxes, which isn’t bad. If we can replenish our Thin Mint supply, I think she’ll pull it off. In the meantime it is I who am right behind her, making change, opening bags, providing encouragement when she is tired. No one provides encouragement for me (well, the Spouse does on occasion) and when I get tired and cranky I soldier on.

And what do we get out of it? If YG meets her goal, she gets an iPod (!) and a special Hall of Fame dinner. She learns business skills (all the literature tells me so, and I believe everything I read) and management skills and winds up with a big sense of accomplishment. And I wind up five pounds heavier and with a sense that I’ve supported my child. Name of the game, right? Of course right.