It's that time of year again. That time when we teach young girls how to push addictive compounds. By this I mean girl scout cookie time. My personal favorite are thin mints, probably a consequence of being my father's son, but we'll save that for another post, or perhaps for when my dad writes his own memoirs, complete with references to the 1,051 times he has made the cemetery joke (if you don't know the joke I'm sure you will one day)... Anyways, we were sitting around the table with my mom, enjoying said cookies, when wouldn't you know it, Joey decided he needed to participate in the cookie eating tradition. He also thought the box was worth a try, but in the end the cookie proved to be where the value was, however, a lot of the cookie wound up on his face, or improving on the appearance of his Gap designed clothes (it's only appropriate that clothes made by children, and worn by children, should be re-designed by children).