with some lemon flavored ice cubes that sold quick- ly. The kids wanted more of everything. Frankie got so excited that during a lull in busi- ness he got on his bike and rode around the neigh- borhood telling more children about the wonderful lemonade stand. The whole enterprise was a huge success and took in the record amount of seven- ty-nine cents. The odd penny is still unaccounted for.
POTATO CHIPS Potato chips, by the way, are the unsung heroes of the food chain. Nothing keeps a kid happy and quiet as well as an unlimited supply of potato chips. They don’t get the recognition they deserve. I couldn’t have managed without them. THE ART OF THE SHOOSTERS When they were older it seemed that every art project in school needed a Shooster kid to supervise it. They were all very skilled and creative. Wendy was a terrific knitter, although she wasn’t that good at math. How she kept track of all the complicat- ed stitches, I don’t know. I have a painting of Nana Dora in the entrance to my home that Wendy did in a pointillist style that any museum would be glad to have. (There is a “mistake” in the photograph that Wendy did the portrait from – see if you catch it. Most people don’t.) Both Stephen and Frank are also accomplished artists, real professionals, and their art hangs in our home and at our offices. Herman and I decided to let the boys have a lemonade stand. When we told Frankie the idea he listened carefully and asked all kinds of questions with real enthusiasm. When he was satis- fied with the answers he jumped up to go and tell all his friends. On his way out the door he turned and said, “Goodbye. Businessman leaving.” I never heard Herman howl so loud. LEMONADE FROM LEMONS The next day the boy’s dedicated father came home from his long working hours and set up a table in the back of the house. Along with a gallon of lemonade from the restaurant, Herman brought Shooster Restaurant hats, paper cups, table mats, and printed signs advertising Pink Lemonade. He hung the signs on the clothes line. The kids were very excited. Herman got a plastic container for the lemon- ade and Scotch taped the lid so the boys wouldn’t spill it. Frank was in charge of pouring and Michael was in charge of the money and throwing away the dirty cups. Lemonade was two cents a cup. The boys drew such a crowd that in a little while they had only about a pint left. Herman, the shrewd restaurant manager, added water to the lemonade to stretch the supply. Then Mae came to the rescue
WHY MOTHERS TURN GRAY
Nothing has frightened me as a young moth- er as much as an incident that happened one day
The whole enterprise was a huge success and took in the record amount of seventy-nine cents. The odd penny is still unaccounted for.
when everything seemed quite ordinary. Herman was sound asleep in our bedroom. My new helper was upstairs with Michael. I was upstairs as well, in the bathroom brushing my teeth. I heard this strange noise downstairs and heard Frankie crying. The new helper had run downstairs as fast as she could to see what was the matter and when she got there she screamed. My heart dropped. What terrible thing had happened? I raced downstairs. Herman jumped out of a sound sleep so suddenly I thought he would have a heart attack. We all met in the kitchen. Frank- ie had set off the fire extinguisher. The new help- er, thinking that perhaps the smoke pouring out was poison gas, had panicked and screamed loud enough to frighten us all to death. It took Herman and I a few days to regain our composure. Shat- tered nerves are a direct result of parenting.
197
Made with FlippingBook interactive PDF creator