Finding financial reward in good, old-fashioned neighborhood hard work

Opinion by MiaButler

I’ve been paying taxes for two years now, and I know you have heard it from adults, and it’s true what they say, but it sucks. It really does. That paycheck looks beautiful until you read the fine print that screams “taxes: -$50.” Off my minimum wage paycheck, that’s about five hours of my time lost to the government. 

Now I’m not too sure how taxes work, or even why I’m paying them, but I know it wasn’t always like this. You see, although I have only been working in the corporate world (Crumbl and lifeguarding) for two years, I have been hustling for 14.

I started when I was 3: operating my own company, grinding out that 9 to 5, and managing my own finances. (I ran a lemonade stand, worked roughly six hours, and shoved the money in my piggy bank.) 

Let me tell you, the struggles of running a company in such a ruthless industry, with my competitors right next-door to me, were real. I had to calculate the perfect balance between Country Time lemonade mix and water,  bake my cookies to the perfect consistency AND prevent them from melting in the summer’s sun. And lastly, I had to create the aesthetic appeal.

Instead of the pathetic card table and poster board my neighbors used, I had a stand custom made by a well renowned designer under the name Grandpa that featured a white, rectangle stand that was, roughly three feet high, with under head storage and two chalkboard painted surfaces that were an advertiser’s and chalker’s dream. Oh, and of course my company had to stand out in order to captivate maximum traffic, so I invested in a partner about 37 years older than me who was looking to get some excess tomatoes and zucchini off their hands. Her name was mom. 

So that’s how my company took off. Lemonade, cookies, and garden veggies. I kept the prices low, and my neighbors kept my profits high. I found that charging under a dollar for all individual goods compelled my kind customers to say “keep the change.” Those were the days before tipping culture was in overkill, or an iPad screen and a 15%, 20%, or 25% option was flipped to you to awkwardly decline. Tipping at my store was never asked, but also never declined. 

With tips and profits, I was making bank. I’m shocked Forbes Magazine didn’t contact me. In figures, I would make more than $100 a day. The money was spectacular, I paid no taxes, and the hours were remarkably flexible, which is exactly what has me wondering why I ever quit my career. 

Why did I trade in my salary and accept $10.50? Why did I allow myself to hand over my title as “boss” to a 40-year-old man? Because looking back now, I am realizing that working at a lemonade stand was the best job ever. 

This brings me to my long awaited point: when did it stop being socially acceptable to set up shop and sell some lemonade? Why did we stop selling our own goods, bracelets, treats, painted rocks, and everything else? Why did we stop selling lemonade? 

I think–and this could be biased because of my success in the industry–we should bring back lemonade stands. Five-year-olds can have them, but so can teenagers. They are honest work, require hustle, bring income, teach social skills, and best of all, there’s no taxes involved. 

I’ll see you next summer at my lemonade stand.