With a stunning show of entrepreneurial-ship, this kid took advantage of the heat by selling lemonade to his family. Without asking for even the smallest bit of help, he made the lemonade, tested it for poison and erected a sign heralding his business.
5 cents a cop.
The shelter I bought for the deck lasted exactly almost nearly two weeks before becoming a sculptural mass of mangled metal in our driveway but the heat today was calling out for some shade. Turns out this man I married, not only is very kind to repeat callers in the middle of the night, but also with a nod to his country roots, can throw up a mean lean to from some frayed rope, an old blue tarp and a fair bit of ingenuity.
I pleaded with him. Begged him. Please, I said, please don’t do this thing on our deck. I’d rather stay inside than sit under a torn, stained blue tarp. We look like we’re from Borculo, I said. We look like rednecks, I said. I’ll die if anyone comes back here and sees this. I’m ordering a shade sail right now. See? This is me ordering a shade sail. Put the duct tape away.
Oh, yup. The ratchet strap through the door is a nice touch. My favorite part.
Nope. Spoke too soon. The muddy 2×4 is even better. Sweet.
I printed the receipt for the shade sail I’d just ordered and showed him how quaint it could be if we all just used rain umbrellas like parasols in the meantime, but only Tess bought it. I threatened to take up smoking Virginia Slims and watching Nascar and making the boys wear wife beaters.
I think I stomped my foot. I think I mentioned the neighbors a few times.
Until he said, I thought you were trying to be real?
So I dressed the table with a cloth and cut up some watermelon and served lunch al fresco. And I’m not going to email the neighbors and explain the shanty town that has sprung up across the creek, even though they’ve surely caught a glimpse of blue plastic through the trees by now. Because this is my Green Acres, tarp and all, and this is how we do life. Me and this man who kills me and four yummy kids and thirteen Kevins and a tarp. In the country. Being real.