This is not good. This is not good at all. There I go every morning, full gym bag on my shoulder, to see my new best friend, the FirstHealth fitness center across from the hospital.

Then, when I come home and open the garage door, it overwhelms me: case atop case of Girl Scout cookies.

Lemonades stacked above Thin Mints, which are on top of Shortbreads. The stack of Caramel deLites is absolutely taunting me: "Whassup, fat boy? You want a piece of me? C'mon. Betcha can't stop at one!"

One box, that is.

I've always been a sucker for Girl Scout cookies, much more so than Boy Scout popcorn. Popcorn just seems so common, something I can do in three minutes and then be off happily munching. I can bake cookies, too, but it takes effort, and the end result won't be nearly as delectable.

It's never been particularly easy to say "no" to a Girl Scout, whether it's a door-to-door visit or a booth at a local grocery or hardware store. Last year, as my daughter got even more active in Girl Scouts, I got a bigger "taste," shall we say. I volunteered to work a cookie booth with the girls, and it was evident within a two-hour blustery window that few can resist the wily charms of 10-year-old girls.

But the stakes are vastly raised this year. My wife volunteered this time around to be the Troop "cookie mom." This is no small role. It began several weeks ago with training and required her to learn far more organizational detail around eight types of cookies than most rocket engineers needed to know for the space shuttle.

(Fact: Girl Scout cookies sometimes have different names because they have different bakers, which is why a Samoa in one place is called a Caramel deLite elsewhere. Even cooler fact: "Identical" cookies will sometimes have different calorie counts.)

When the first day of selling opened last month, it was like the opening bell on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange as the girls - and their parents - raced to lock up cookie commitments. I won't mention the specific number of boxes I was on the hook for, but let's just say I'm well-provisioned.

As for door-to-door selling, well, you never quite know your neighbors and the power of Girl Scout cookies. Our daughter went to one house where I was sure the owner wouldn't even open the door. Instead, she came back with an order for 13 boxes. Success breeds confidence, and she pushed on. While she won't set the world on fire with her final sales, she did far better than previous attempts.

The order-taking over, it became the cookie mom's job to pull all the orders together and request our share. But even that wasn't as challenging as the next phase: procuring dates and locations for upcoming cookie booths. After putting up with turf wars that bordered on outright competition, the Girl Scouts set up a lottery system by which all troops took their chances with time and place.

The place to be last year in our old city: outside a wine and beer store on Super Bowl Sunday. The girls held their "cute" charms in abeyance as the cookies flew off the table. This year, the girls are pretty psyched about a spot at Di'Lishi (tomorrow afternoon from 12-2, by the way). It'll be like this all month as the girls set up outside grocery stores and other retail destinations.

Beware also of next Friday: It's National Girl Scout Cookie Day. Belts will be lowered one notch in honor of the yummy treats.

Somehow lost in all of this cookie madness are the real reasons (other than the obvious financial one) why the girls sell cookies. They have five skills they're trying to learn in the process: "I set important goals"; "I make smarter decisions"; "I manage money better"; "I deal with people more confidently"; and "I know how the run a business the right way."

If there was a sixth goal - "I know how to keep my room and bathroom clean" - I might buy a tractor-trailer's worth.

For now, I have the garage.

Contact John Nagy at (910) 693-2507 or john@thepilot.com.