The kids should not have sold lemonade today. It was too cold outside. I thought about telling them to sell warm apple cider. Or tea. Or cocoa. And maybe we could whip up some banana muffins. I wanted to remind my kids that folks aren’t really in the mood for lemonade on day like this.
But I didn’t.
I thought about making them finish their homework first. One had that Science report, the other some handwriting practice and a worksheet. Needs before wants, girls. As a parent, I know this is wisdom I ought to impart.
But I didn’t.
I thought about looking up a recipe for lemonade. I know, it’s like sugar, lemons, and water. But in what ratios? That’s kind of important. That’s what separates the good lemonade from the bad.
But I didn’t.
Instead, they juiced six lemons, added a cup of water, and declared it “Gross.” Then they corrected it with sugar and honey, and declared it “Perfect.”
I thought about showing them they spelled “sents” wrong on their sign, and that maybe they should charge fifty cents for their homemade chocolate-covered marshmallows and only twenty-five cents for their lemonade, instead of the other way round. After all, the treats had taken more time to prepare and required more expensive resources than the drink.
But I didn’t.
I thought about telling them that if they placed their sign and stand two houses up the street, they could take advantage of the incoming northbound traffic instead of just the east–west travelers we attract in front of our house.
But I didn’t.
For once, for one blessed hour, I shut my mouth, my opinions, my bossiness, and mother-knows-best lectures. And I let my kids have a lemonade stand in the cold.
When I peeked through the curtain, I saw neighbors come by, declaring the marshmallows “Delicious!” A mom in a minivan stopped and said, “I’m so thirsty. Do you have anything to drink?” Two girls from next door brought out a guitar and provided entertainment and a coffee house vibe.
It was perfection on a Monday afternoon.
Because I stayed out of it.
And because kids are great at being kids when we let them.