It’s happened again.
Every summer there’s at least one story about some kid somewhere in these United States of America who sets up a lemonade stand and runs afoul of “the man.” You know, some bureaucrat who wants to rain on some poor snowflake’s free trade parade by citing laws and ordinances and zoning and sanitation and crap. Bad, bad Big Brother and its rush to squash the hopes of some moppet with grand plans and a pitcher of sour, lemony goodness in a front yard or at the end of a cul-de-sac. Let wee Susie sell her delicious refreshment, the public cries! Leave little Larry alone and allow him to learn the free enterprise system in a wholesome and innocent way!
Of course it’s all utter shite.
Let’s face it – you want, you need, some suit in city hall to come down hard on these cherubs with citrus schemes and money-raisin’ dreams. Otherwise, it’s salmonella and contamination thanks to those innocent little dirty hands and irresponsible ethics. Think an 8-year-old cares about a sanitation grade? Think a third-grader gives a damn about the proper sugar to water to fruit ratio? Leaving liquid or foodstuff sittin’ out in the hot sun may make your urchin vendor seem cute and precocious but know those refreshments are a bullet in your digestive tract once the botulism and dysentery get to work!
Open your eyes, you gullible proles: Kids who sell lemonade are not adorable! They aren’t sweet roadside peddlers with a song in their hearts and a wish upon their lips! They are death merchants trading in potable risk! Is your life worth that brief moment of Norman Rockwell bliss? No. Hell no!
So the next time you read about some precious tyke whose lemonade stand got shut down by some civil servant, don’t sympathize with the little angel. Instead, cry, “Jail’s too good for the sprog!” and breathe easier knowing that your elected officials are doing the work of the just!