Two-year-olds selling cookie dough

It's that time again. That time when I, having no children, have to financially support the children of all of my friends.

It's that time when I think my friends make up children I never knew they had just to get money out of me.

It's school fundraiser season.

I used to think I had a handle on this. It was a simpler time of Girl Scout cookies at the office. Coworkers would bring the order forms up to the office, I place my order for my Samoas. Then a few weeks later, the cookies show up at my desk.

No problem.

Then last year, my friend's two-year-old was raising money for her nursery school by selling tubs of cookie dough. I mean, cute as can be. I couldn't resist.

But since when do two-year-olds need money? How do they know how to sell cookie dough? They can't even SAY cookie dough.

This year it's the online stores. Seriously, the children's fundraising has hit the interweb. I mean, back in my day it was the boxes of candy bars that took forever to sell, and only sold when my dad would take them to work.

Now, the kids don't even have to personally ask me for money. Their moms send an email with a link to a web store. They don't even send a photo of their cute kids to woo me.

But so far, it works. It's terrible. I will spend more money on more kids this way because I don't even have to leave my couch to support their causes. Why are the children so smart these days?!?!

I blame our education system.

So far, I'm in for a magazine subscription for one kid, and probably some gift wrap for another kid. I can't help it.

I buy something from one kid, I pretty much have to buy something from all of the kids.

For the next month, I will be eating only Samoas while reading my new subscription to Entertainment Weekly while wrapping gifts and looking at my free gym bag that came with the magazines but that I don't intend to actually use. I'll put it next to the pansies that I told my boss I'd buy for her kid's drill team.

I'll be too poor to do anything else.

But, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. It's for the kids . . . who better pay me back by supporting me one day when I'm old.

C.T.