Mulli of the MidWest

Awful Realization

I have made an Awful Realization. Oh, for the last several weeks, like Manna from Heaven, boxes of luscious Girl Scout Cookies have been appearing at the Mulligan Compound.

I, Mulligan, have been forced, with no prior consultation, to have the Wee Lass thrust upon me. Ah, my giant Mulli-brain thinks, someday, yes, someday, the Wee Lass will herself be a bearer of Girl Scout Cookies. This could make up in some small part for the great sacrifice that I have made, and continue to make, by having the Wee Lass in my life. The Mulligan Compound itself will be a haven of Girl Scout Cookies. Great crates of cookies stowed in every corner, in the attempt to fund raise for that great icon of American Spirit, the Girl Scouts.

But, but, I, Mulligan, am already at least six years of age, if not more, as it is unknown how old I am. I was found in such a destitute state, feverish and racked with malnutrition, that I have never been able to recall events prior to my discovery.

Therefore, if I am already SIX, it is: highly unlikely that I, Mulligan, shall live to see the Mulligan Compound filled with Girl Scout Cookie Manna. No. I shall probably succumb prior to the Wee Lass being old enough to sell Girl Scout Cookies.