What Does a Girl Scout Cookie Say About You?

I'M SLEEPING MORE soundly now that Jared Kushner has solved the intractable Israel-Palestine conflict and, for his next big project, is taking on the troublesome border wall. With his track record of success, we’ll soon see the long-promised barrier protecting our nation from nefarious foreign agents with malevolent intent.

But enough about Rudy Giuliani. I got my own problem: It’s Girl Scout cookie season.

When the two girls knocked on our front door, I was immediately thrown into my annual agony of temptation. I’m a big fan of the Girl Scouts and their molding of young minds and hearts, but I try to avoid simple sugars and white flour. Girl Scout cookies, while delicious, contain few beneficial nutrients. There are no ancient grains, no organic fruits, no locally grown vegetables (a cookie named “Cauliflower Cremes” wouldn’t stand a chance), nor any of the spices now known to benefit healthy longevity. I’d buy a box of “Turmeric ’n’ Cumin Samoas,” but I doubt anyone else would.

So I grudgingly ordered my usual: Two boxes of Thin Mints and a box of Do-Si-Dos. I do this to support an institution I admire, but also to continue an ongoing ontological study of human behavior and my theory that there are only two kinds of people in the world: Thin Mint People and Do-Si-Do Folk.

I set both cookies out for guests, then watch as they unconsciously reveal their personal character traits—for better or worse—by the choices they make.

This test, though unscientific because of the small sample size, continues to inform. Thin Mint People are polite as guests, removing the sweet round discs one at a time, holding their end of a pleasant conversation. But their eyes never waver from the plate. They keep track of the remaining number, mentally calculating when to take a second, then a third, wondering if removing two at a time would be impolite, or noticed. I have no doubt that, when left alone with a box, Thin Mint People remove an entire sleeve and carry it around the house, eating their way to the bottom in rapid succession.

Thus, my observations suggest, Thin Mint People are impetuous and self-gratifying, prone to rash decision-making, undependable in times of conflict, and easily distracted in times of peace. Their fingers still sticky with chocolate, the inevitable regret they express is unconvincing, a thin veil that does not conceal a desire for “just two more.”

Do-Si-Do Folk, on the other hand, are judicious, calm, and forward-thinking. Because their favorite cookie is made with peanut butter, just one will satisfy them until dinner. To eat more would be excessive, and clearly indicative of poor judgment and bad manners. Do-Si-Do Folks are model citizens, dependable and forward-thinking, the kind of people who could be trusted to lead our most important institutions, such as the Girl Scouts.

BUT IT TURNED OUT out the people at the door weren’t Girl Scouts. They were Mormons. And they didn’t have any cookies. Not that they weren’t willing to speak on that subject, and many others, at length, if I’d just let them into my home. But I was in no mood for theological wrangling about atonement. I wanted cookies. In my mind, triggered by the hope of forthcoming baked goods, the glass of milk was already poured and the dessert plate readied.

Not that I’d need a plate, of course. I eat them right out of the sleeve. Because I’m a Thin Mint Guy. (But you knew that already, didn’t you?)