Barbarians at the gate

Hand over the Thin Mints and nobody gets hurt.

Barbarians at the gate

In the morning and in the evening our property falls under siege. Barbarians are at both gates. In the spring, gull join in the surge. Floating, diving, dipping, and kvetching as only gulls do. They won't land, they wait for me to toss meals into the air.

Surrounded by gull in the air, ibis, and ducks on the ground I frantically pitch meals in all directions. Chaos follows the pitches with open mouths fighting for the catch. Madness. Mayhem. Marvelous! The back gate without trees blocking air traffic can attain a level of feeding frenzy only seen during shark week.

The front gate, with three large trees blocking all air traffic from clear landings lends to sure footed barbarian attacks only. It's mayhem. It's controlled chaos. There is a smidge of decorum except for the two male Muscovy ducks locked in gender battle. Which sounds like a pillow fight.

My chaos makes sense though. Good clean fun. Nothing dark or sinister. Nothing winking toward the underground workings of addictions. Nothing like my neighbor and her Girl Scout Cookie transfers.

Moms in minivans line up in front of her seemingly normal house. My neighbor stands at the open trunk of her sedan. The rear bumper hangs low for the weight of the contents. The Nissan's shock absorbers absorbing what they can. She stands with papers in hand. A roll call. A list to make the mayhem look orderly.

Trunk and back gates swing open as her army of pushers make ready to take the contraband throughout the neighborhoods. Dark magic. All of it. As I feed the front gate marauders I witness efficiency so slip stream, so devious, it almost looks wholesome. Moms laugh and giggle as they carry boxes from one trunk to their own. The leader checking off names as boxes leave her sedan, lightening the load on the shocks that breath a sigh of relief. The muffler no longer touches the pavement.
Girl Scout Cookies. Dangerous. Addictive. Delicious. McDonald's used kids to create generations of MikkieD addicts. I tip my yellow bowl to an organization that not only brought kids, but the cutest girls with the biggest smiles AND their mothers into a black market of sugar buzzes delivered via colorful boxes covered in happy cute girl faces. Faces showing girls smiling as they become the women who will drive the vans that carry the new cute little girls to deliver the next generation of sugar buzzes. Thin Mints. You dark minty little gateway. Unassuming chocolate covered mind control.

Barbarians at the gates.
 

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