Ding Dongs

Photo by Mark Usspiske

I wanted to be a Girl Scout but was too young, so I became a Brownie instead.

Mom took me to Sears department store at the Valley Plaza on a Saturday morning to buy my official Brownie uniform. She bought the brown short-sleeved button-up dress, brown socks, a leather coin belt, an orange necktie embroidered with the Brownie emblem, my handbook, and the iconic felt hat resembling an acorn's cap. I wasn't interested in being a Brownie or helping others—I just wanted to wear the uniform!

My Brownie troop met after school on Wednesdays.

On those meeting days, all the Brownies wore their uniforms, feeling big-league because we had somewhere to go after school while everyone else had to go home.

When the school bell rang at the end of the day, we raced across the playground to a small white building next to the railroad tracks. Once inside, we gathered around a mirror on the floor, which was framed with mulberry leaves, and pretended it was pond pond. First, we said the Pledge of Allegiance, then held up three fingers to recite the official Brownie Promise and Law, pledging to be true to ourselves, serve the community, and help others. I mumbled through the words because I couldn’t be bothered to memorize them.

One week, Mom was responsible for troop snacks. As I left Happy Acres that morning, she put two unopened boxes of Hostess Ding Dongs in my bike basket. I couldn’t help but eyeball those Ding Dongs as I pedaled along Robert’s Lane. They were my favorite chocolate cake snacks.

I calculated how many girls were in my Brownie troop and how many Ding Dongs each girl should get. By the end of the first recess, I'd eaten all the extras and shared a few with newfound friends.

When the lunch bell rang, I slipped a couple of Ding Dongs into my coat pocket, thinking some Brownies might skip our troop meeting because of a dentist or doctor visit. I didn’t have an appetite for my school lunch that day, but I sure devoured those Ding Dongs. 

By the end of school, worrying about those Ding Dongs made my already upset stomach feel worse. Would there be enough for everyone? Would anyone notice the chocolate smeared against my Brownie dress and the cream filling smudged on my orange necktie? 

I brought what was left of the Ding Dongs to the troop meeting and placed the crumpled box on the refreshment table next to the pitcher of red Kool-Aid.

As the Brownies arrived, I counted them–one, two, three, four… There were fifteen Brownies, but only eight Ding Dongs wrapped in silver foil. I explained to my troop leader that Mom didn't have time to buy Brownie snacks at the grocery store. Instead, she gave me the leftover Ding Dongs from the cupboard and sent her apologies. 

A Brownie suddenly interrupted, claiming she'd seen me and some other girls eating Ding Dongs on the playground during recess and lunch. She only tattled because I wouldn't give her one. My face turned red, and my ears felt on fire.

The troop leader rolled her eyes and cut the Ding Dongs in half. 

Everyone in my troop knew what I'd done, so I didn't want to be a Brownie anymore. When I got home, I told Mom that my troop had disbanded due to a lack of interest. She put my uniform in a Goodwill box. 

The following year, I was a Girl Scout!