I warn you now. I’m about to get on my parenting soapbox (which should help me catapult my 4’10” frame to a good 5 feet). Parents, I do very much respect that we all have different perspectives of raising children. There’s nothing wrong with it, and I feel no need to interfere…unless you’re hurting your children. In that case, your perspective goes out the window and I have no qualms interfering.

I recently learned how Girl Scout cookies can divide parents though. We entered the Girl Scout world not too long ago, and Lexi has loved the experience. Going into it, I knew that at some point, we would be asked to participate in the dreaded cookie sale. I love Girl Scout cookies. I love eating them. Many of you know the shame of wanting to devour an entire box of thin mints or tagalongs by yourself. I just don’t want to sell them. It’s the same way I feel about all school fundraising events. I’m just going to apologize to all my PTA friends right now. I would just rather give money for the cause than sell wrapping paper, bmagazines, and Girl Scout cookies.

But…I get it. The girls need to understand the dynamics and benefits of fundraising. In real life, people aren’t going to hand over money that easily. (If you come to my door, though. kids, I’ll just give you the money! Don’t tell your parents.) With all those feelings, I willingly signed up to work multiple shifts at a large arts/crafts fair to sell Girl Scout cookies. I may not like it, but it’s part of the Girl Scout experience.

My husband and I prepped our daughter beforehand. There are some kids who “never meet a stranger.” Lexi is not one of them. She takes stranger danger to heart, which is a serious impediment to selling Girl Scout cookies so we rehearsed what she could say and do as individuals walked by the booth. Thankfully, she viewed it as a challenge to overcome so I was just on top of the world when she went out of her comfort zone to hawk some cookies. She was standing in front and waving the cookies and yelling, “Girl Scout Cookies! Girl Scout Cookies! Just on dollar!” (Love the enthusiasm, Lexi, but the cookies are $3.50.) She really embraced her role.

Unfortunately, not all the girls embraced the role. Many of the other girls were on the floor with coloring books. The other parents told me they brought books and activities because they knew the girls had short attention spans and would get bored. Remember my earlier statements? I’m cool with different parenting styles. I am. You do whatever you want. I’m going to have Lexi marketing cookies for the whole three-hour shift because (1) it’s her responsibility and (2) no one wants to buy Girl Scout cookies from the parents. So I wasn’t making any comment about the fact that their girls were coloring instead of selling. I might have had some internal thoughts, but I’m never going to say that out loud.

But then one of the moms violated the unspoken rule of “No judging my parenting skills unless I’m harming my child” and said, “Nhung, don’t you think Lexi needs to take a break? She’s been out front working really hard. Her arms look tired. She’s only five.” Ooohhh...then she did the ultimate no-no in my book. She then told Lexi to sit down, take a break and color.

Nope. Not gonna happen. Yes, breaks are necessary. I am not a slave-driver, but the girl had only been selling cookies for 15 minutes. She had been lifting one box of cookies for those 15 minutes. Her arms can take it. Back to the front, Lexi. You can sit down if you want, but people walking by want to see the kids, not the adults. She sold a lot of cookies during her shift. I was proud of her-not because she sold cookies, but because in that time, she initiated conversations with strangers walking by. She smiled and answered a few questions when they asked her! That is a miracle. She was also proud of the 88 boxes of cookies she helped sell.

On the way home, I had a moment where I let the other parent’s’ comments sink in, and I wondered whether I had worked her too hard. So I asked her. Lexi, how did you feel about selling cookies today? “I had fun, mommy.” Pause, pause. Then, “Mommy, did you want me to work hard so that when I grow up, I’ll understand how to work hard?” Yes, yes, yes, Lexi!!! Thank you for getting it. But, Lexi, was mommy mean to you during the cookie sale? “No, mommy, you weren’t mean. You didn’t even do anything. You just sat in a chair. I did all the work.”

Well, I’d like to say I did something in the way of encouraging her, but I’ll take it. My parents taught me work ethic from the moment I came out of the womb. By the time I was 7, I was walking to the post office to buy stamps or taking the water bill to city hall and making sure it was paid. Now, I’m not advocating that for everyone. Our family dynamics were different, but I do highly value teaching children work ethic.

And selling Girl Scout cookies is a good start.

What do you think? Was I over the top?