I’m telling you, children with lemonade stands are why the world will be okay. Somehow, along with bad habits like nose picking and saying “stupid,” we’re passed this tradition along. Inflation swooped in and messed us all up, the recession came, and kids still have lemonade stands where it’s just $.25 per cup.
I always want to beam at kids who are having lemonade stands. I want to tell them how adorable they are and that I remember being them and thinking that I was actually going to make a lot of money. (Thank goodness people didn’t always carry quarters with them and sometimes substituted actual dollar bills.)
Brooke and I used to have lemonade stands every summer. Our dad made us a stand out of one of those things… Oh now the word is escaping me, those wooden platform things that they put softener salt on. You probably know what I mean. Anyways, that’s what our stand was made of. We used my play cash register and would sit outside for hours, getting excited every time we saw someone.
Then there would be those dry spells where no one would be in sight. This is why you have lungs, to yell as loudly as possible, “ICE COLD LEMONADE…. 25 CENTS A CU-UP!” Then do it again…. wait a couple minutes and do it again. Hear it echo around the empty neighborhood. Then it gets dark, and it’s time for dinner, and you’ve made like $8,00 today, so you can probably pack up.
As fond as those memories are, I wouldn’t go back, because that was also the time of life where I was only allowed to bike or rollerblade on the driveway. Endless circles, around and around, maybe trying to fit a figure eight in. It’s nice to remember all the years that I spent in the yard, feeling free and happy to be doing whatever it was I was doing (tying a jump rope to a tree and trying to do double dutch by myself without actually knowing how to do double dutch, making a tent and reading inside it, watering the flowers, watering the driveway, running through the sprinkler, sitting on the sprinkler til you got too cold to stand it, swinging on our swings that hung under the deck, hitting head on said deck… too many things to mention).
Funny that it isn’t until you get outside of your circumstances that you see how limited you were… or perhaps how much freedom you had. I think that might be called perspective.
(By the way, if you were getting concerned that I tried to do double dutch by myself and were wondering if I had any friends, don’t worry. I was happy. That was just in dire circumstances when no one was around, and the jump rope called.)