I feel lucky to live in a neighborhood where kids still set up the occasional lemonade stand.
Being the soft-hearted sucker that I am, I always stop and buy lemonade, because, well, just cuz.
And in spite of the fact that I don't like lemonade, I suspect that I'll continue being the loyal customer of all neighborhood, capitalist wannabees under the age of twelve or less than four feet tall.
During one lemonade stand stop a few years ago, a lemonade stand run by two young children, maybe six years old I'd guess, I read the funniest, most endearing, hand-painted sign.
The sign said . . .
