The children were running around the house this afternoon dressed up as a ninja, a lego ninja and a candy can girl. And if you’re counting, I have only two children which means we had a neighbor’s child over. The dress up was fine but then they decided to add in an interesting twist—candy.
Specifically, they wanted to have a “Candy Stand”. It’s like a lemonade stand only they were planning on selling candy. Fine, I said, only you can’t eat any of the candy. They were fine with that and assured me they’d only sell, not eat, the candy.
They got everything ready and even improvised ways to flag down passing cars. We helped them with a money collection container and gave them water bottles and some chairs to take to the corner of the street, one house up.
Their candy stand was open and I had to leave, so as I drove by I was their first customer, stopping in to buy a piece of candy and deliver drops to my daughter. As it turned out, I had no change and no bills smaller than a ten so I asked for some change later after they reaped large profits.
I headed off to a meeting and got a phone call an hour-and-a-half later from my husband saying when I got in could I check on them because dinner was long overdue and they were still at the stand. In the meantime our neighbor had helped them with some lemonade and—get this—we found out they’d been eating all the candy. Shocker, right?
They were happy (and sugared up) when they came home for dinner, not to mention full. They had made two dollars each but that success was suddenly tempered when they found out they weren’t getting dessert after dinner because they’d already eaten dessert before their meal.
The Big Boy Update: My son ran over to my husband tonight holding his knee saying, “I got a boo boo that just got boo booed again.” My husband told him sometimes scabs came off and that was okay. A bandaid fixed my son’s concern.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter fled from the deck into the house and headed over to the porch after dinner tonight, trying to escape from her brother. She said, “if my brother comes out here to the porch I do not want to be with him because I’m not a good Greyson fan anymore—he’s a zombie.”
I Ran: Yes, I ran. I know, I thought I’d forgotten how to exercise too. My best friend and I ran five miles this morning before our husbands had to leave and we had to return home to man the children. I survived. Actually, it wasn’t even that bad, but that’s largely due in part to the company.
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