Welcome to Capitalism Camp for Kindergartners

One day this summer, to occupy our two boys and maybe teach them something about money, my wife and I set up a sidewalk lemonade stand. She put out a chipped red table that had been hers as a girl and helped our older son, who’s 5, carefully letter “LEMONADE” and “50¢” onto construction paper. When neighbors stopped by, our younger boy, 3, would splash juice from Costco into a plastic cup as his big brother slowly counted change. The customers often let them just keep the dollar, and by afternoon’s end, they had collected $8. Our 5-year-old later got awww-that’s-cute laughs explaining how they’d managed such a haul: “I don’t give change.”

So much of parenting feels rushed. For once, I thought, here was a memory that would have a satisfying, Rockwellian glow.