“Whoa! Look at that lemonade stand,” I told my 17-year-old son as we drove through our neighborhood.
This was no folding table and chairs. This was an actual stand, fashioned from shutters and painted lemonade pink and yellow. It looked like it belonged in a Parents magazine spread. Given how close we live to New York City, it really could be a prop from a Parents spread. Or a Broadway show. Or Gwyneth Paltrow’s apartment. It was that spectacular.
My teenager, however, was unimpressed.
“I think it’s better when the parents stay out of it,” he declared. “Like you did.”
I paused and held my breath, the way you do those rare times your teen pays you a compliment, as if you moved too quickly, it would fly away.
“We were the last generation of kids to do things on our own,” he continued, adding that though he and his friends had video games, they still played outside, something he’d mentioned before. But this time, he had more to say.
“We had a card table and a sign I made out of poster board,” he recalled.
“And a vuvuzela heralding passers-by, which is mainly why I avoided the whole scene,” I chuckled.
“No, but you bought the lemonade stuff, but you didn’t help us sell it,” he remembered. “Younger kids, their parents do it all.”
I remembered the lemonade stand I’d seen the day before, with a posse of kids and just as many parents, holding up jumbo signs that looked like they’d been printed and laminated at Staples, bearing the über-hip saying, “Keep Calm and Drink Lemonade.” There wasn’t a vuvuzela among them.*
But the lemonade stands that my kids and their friends ran were made and managed by children. They set the prices, mixed the lemonade, flagged down customers, served them, made change, and “cleaned up” afterwards.
Of course, I checked in on them, and when my neighbor’s four-year-old joined them, I sat with him in a chair to keep him out of traffic. But the rest? That was up to them. (Including keeping all the money. There was no budget for supplies. Hmmm.)
The thing is I know how younger kids’ parents got there, how they decided to help their kids sell lemonade:
- They bought into the idea that parents need to “make memories” with their kids. That’s why board game commercials went from parent-less to parent-led in the past 20 years. [See “New Study Cautions Moms Against Hovering Over Play.”]
- They were pressured to make cool crafts and post photos of them on Pinterest because that’s a very impressive (and sparkly!) way to prove your dedication to parenthood.
- They are terrified that their children will be stolen from the end of their driveway if they don’t watch them at every moment, even though there’s a bigger danger of being approached online. [Parents.com]
Hence, so many parents micro-managing their kids’ lemonade stands.
My son seemed to feel that younger kids are missing out on a childhood rite-of-passage. I’d like to add: So are the parents.
This is a chance to let your kids go just a little bit, to teach them something about sales, money management, and getting along with people you work with for the good of the business. And it’s a chance for you to stay inside, away from that damn vuvuzela.
CORRECTION 6/4/14): *Turns out, that was actually a fundraiser for my local Mother’s Group, prompting this apology.
Should have stopped and supported the community especially since you took the time to write about it…inaccurately I might add
Fact: The Lemonade Hop proceeds are 100% donated to the Mother’s Group. Not one dime is kept by the kids
Fact: The kids were the ones who voted to use that “über-hip” saying so we thank you for noticing
Fact: The kids were yelling and holding signs to encourage people like you to stop, no vuvuzela required they did it all on their own!
Fact: Safety means we accompany our children on a busy road while 9 out of 10 cars whiz by at 30 MPH barely taking notice of the kids efforts rather making generalizations about this so-called new generation (by the way some of the kids selling the lemonade where teenagers so I’m not sure our kids would technically be called a different generation)
Fact: Elaborate lemonade stands & clever signs are visual marketing tools…hardly to be credited for diminishing the potential of our children especially when the kids are instrumental in the creation
Opinion: Are we perfect mother’s…far from it! We love our kids & our community and had so much fun selling lemonade for a good cause, spending time with our neighbors and yes–making memories!
Small suggestion, try and notice the good next time it makes for a much better story
I know. You’re right. That’s why I apologized.
To bad you did not take the time to stop and buy some lemonade from our kids. If you had, you would have seen them do the transactions all on their own and found out it was a fundraiser for the Mothers Group. This yearly event gives us the opportunity to create with our kids and teach them about doing something for a greater cause. They donated all the money earned to the Mothers Group. My daughter wants to a lemonade stand all on her own and you can bet she will make the signs and earn the money she makes. And my kids do play outside on their own everyday, with the exception of my daughter who prefers to stay inside and read some days.
As a former Mothers Group officer, I apologize. I didn’t realize that, though my son wasn’t referring to your event. I should have fact checked before posting, and I will post a correction in the morning.
A chance to stay inside…and get your own damned stuff done, whether that “stuff” is cleaning the house, finishing an article, reading a book or simply enjoying a few moments of knowing your kids are happily and productively engaged while you AREN’T.
Terrific commentary, Jen. My parents didn’t intervene when my sisters, I, and our friends decided to set up a child care center in our side yard. We had days of fun imagining how it would operate, planning activities, creating “rooms” by drawing lines in the dirt, etc. We learned so much more than we would have if adults had directed our activities. Of course the center never opened, but we came to the conclusion that it was impractical on our own.