My Shampoo Stand @Solsticepublish

Yesterday I was looking out the window and a bunch of kids in the neighborhood were running a lemonade stand.  They had signs made up and there were 10 children in all working the stand and yelling to cars driving by.  I really didn’t have time to stop by but I wondered what they were charging for the lemonade.  Split 10 ways I didn’t figure it would go too far.  It reminded me of when I was younger.  I was about 9 years old.  At the time we lived in condominiums in a suburb of Toronto, Ontario called Mississauga. (The inspiration for the town of Missandor in my books)  We also had a cottage on the north shore of Lake Erie where we spent our summer vacations.  I was obsessed with sunken pirate treasure at the time.  Although everyone in the family assured me that no Spanish Galleons sank in Lake Erie, I was determined to find the treasure in the sand just off shore.  At a local store there was a package for sale with a mask, snorkel and flippers.  It cost $7.99.  I wanted it but it was May and with Christmas in December and my birthday in January, there was no way I was getting those tools in time for summer.  I had to come up with a plan.  I schemed with my next oldest brother who was the wise age of 11.  Selling lemonade wouldn’t work because we didn’t get the foot traffic necessary to earn enough to buy two sets of gear.  Then we noticed a pile of shampoo and conditioning bottles in the closet.   I don’t know if my mother was recycling them or just hording them for some other purpose but they would work.  We determined to make the strongest shampoo and conditioner there ever was.  The recipe started with water.  Then we would shave off bar soap and float it in there.  It’ll dissolve; right?  Then we added Lava soap we had worked into a lather, Comet Cleanser and Cascade from under the sink.  The conditioner just didn’t have the chucks of soap.  In all we made 30 bottles.  At $1 a piece we stood to make a handsome profit.  The next problem was our front door.  It was the type with a piston that closed automatically when you let go.  So we wedged it open with some gloves but that didn’t hold.  Then we stuck boots in front but they were too light.  Fortunately Mom’s good Sunday dress pumps were there and we wedged them under the door.  It held!  Next we set up a card table and loaded it with our product we were sure would clean.  How could it not?  As we searched for chairs to sit behind the table, our mother came home from work.  When she saw her shoes she was furious.  We had to move the table in order for her to enter the door.  She slammed it closed and dragged us into the living room to explain ourselves.  When we divulged the ingredients of our products I can still remember her saying, “Oh My Heavens, we’re going to be sued!  You didn’t sell any, did you?”  We had not quite reached the consumer.  She made us pour out every bottle of product and throw away the empties so there was no evidence of them.  After my father came home they both interrogated us intensely.  When they saw the effort we had put in and the reason, they broke with tradition and bought us the gear even though it was not a special occasion.  We blissfully spent our summer days scouring the lake floor not more than a few feet from shore.  Sadly, no treasure could be found but it never stopped us from searching.