You can see them, two cute little tweens, one with pink-tipped hair, selling lemonade in front of my house. People stop, not because they are thirsty or hot, but because they like to support young entrepreneurs. Or because two blond girls are smiling and waving at them and it’s irresistable. Or because they are in no hurry to get home after work anyway.

Selling lemonade is a rite of passage for . . .

About first50

Writer and teacher who benefits from following the principles of writing practice set forth by Natalie Goldberg.
This entry was posted in Children's Writing Prompts, Essay, Opinion, Writing prompt. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Lemonade

  1. Ellis Reyes says:

    Dimitrius never knew his granny. She died when his mama was still just a little girl. When they visited her grave his mama told them that she wasn’t really there, that her body was never recovered from the place where she died. Curious, Dimitrius asked his mama how his granny died in this far away place. In a whisper Dimitrius could barely hear his mama replied, “Lemonade”.

  2. John says:

    Dad, would you like American or British lemonade for 25 cents?


    American is lemon and sugar with tap water but British is with sparkling water.

    Gee, Marty.

    Yes, I remembered you said that, market, er… pigmentation increases your turnabout.

    Ha, Ha, Son, you’re a chip off the old block.

  3. Val says:

    Grandma Nye used to make pink lemonade for the family Memorial Day picnic that we would often celebrate on their flagstone courtyard. It was served in a glass pitcher with different colored lemons decaled to the outside. The glass pitcher had a red lid. I remember sitting at the backyard table hearing the ice clink on the side of the pitcher. Pink lemonade is always comforting.

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