LEGO Lemonade
On a misty Wednesday afternoon in May, Frankie Manoso, age five, stood transfixed in front of the store's LEGO display. He looked at the Imperial Assault Hovertank kit with longing. He looked at the kit every time he was in the store.
Frankie saw himself tearing the cellophane from the box. With Daddy's help, he would organize the pieces on the table in the family room and build the toy. Then he would play with it and play with it.
He wanted it. He really wanted it. He could have it. Mommy and Daddy always gave him what he wanted. Frankie grabbed the Hovertank kit off the shelf and put it into his mother's shopping cart. "I want this."
His mother, Stephanie Plum, pulled the kit from the basket. She looked at the front and read that the kit was age suitable. Stephanie flipped the box to look at the price. Her eyes widened. Thirty dollars. She thought, why not? They could afford it. Then she thought, he said 'I want this', no please, no may I, just entitlement.
"Not today." Frankie's birthday was in a few months; he'd get it then. He'd have to wait. He'd get the kit on her timeframe, not his, as a lesson in patience and appreciation.
Frankie frowned. "But I want it. I really, really want it."
"Not today." She handed him the box. "Put it back."
"No! I really want it. You never get me anything I want. Never! Never ever!"
Stephanie took a few cleansing breaths. She reached for the box, but Frankie held on to it.
"Frankie, give me the box."
"No! I want it." Frankie hugged the kit.
"Now. Give me the box, now." Stephanie held out her hands and Frankie, grumbling, handed it back to his mother.
Grumbling herself, Stephanie replaced the toy on the shelf. Then she removed her child from the store dragging him by the arm as he continued to whine, complain and belly ache.
At dinner Frankie was still sullen. He sighed, he pouted, he played with his food rather than eating it. In other words, he sulked.
"Are you finished eating?" asked Stephanie.
Frankie ignored his mother's question and continued mashing the food on his plate.
"Frankie, answer your mother."
"Yeah!" Frankie spit out the word as if it were avocado, kale, spinach, basil or any other food he hated.
Both parents looked at each other.
"Put your plate and silverware in the sink," said Stephanie.
"No!"
"What did you say?" asked Ranger, Frankie's father.
"No!"
"House rules: after you're done eating you put your dish and silverware in the sink," said Ranger.
"Why do I hafta do want you want? I never get what I want. Never. Never ever."
Ranger shot a look at Stephanie.
Stephanie shrugged her shoulders. "He's been like this ever since I told him he couldn't have a LEGO kit at the store."
Ranger listened as Stephanie continued. "He didn't ask for the toy. He just said, 'I want it', which was just too for me."
"Got it."
"Then he got insistent. "I want it. I really want it. You never get me anything I really want.' So, I put the toy back, took our cart to customer service and said 'Sorry' because we weren't going to buy the stuff in it and we came home."
"Frankie, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"I wanted it and Mommy wouldn't get it for me. I never get what I want!"
Ranger surveyed his son, from the top of his well-barbered head to the soles of his expensive sneakers. He looked at Stephanie evenly and she nodded in agreement. "Frankie, take your dish to the sink and then go to your room."
"But, but-"
"Take your dish to the sink. Then go to your room and stay there," said Ranger.
Frankie slid from the chair. He picked up his dish.
"And the silverware", said Stephanie
"But, Daddy said the dish."
"Young man."
Frankie clinked his flatware on the plate. Thankfully, the dish was melamine and didn't break. Frankie was still a bit clumsy moving things to and fro and wasn't ready to handle stoneware. He walked to the sink and carefully and steadily placed his dish and silverware in the sink. Then he started running to his room.
"Walk," said Ranger.
Frankie slowed his pace.
Ranger and Stephanie waited until they were sure that Frankie was in his room, the room loaded with toys, games, et cetera, to resume conversation.
"What the hell?" asked Ranger.
"I don't know," said Stephanie.
"I do. We've spoiled him."
"No. Not really."
"Yes. If he thinks he can have everything he wants. And we give him everything he wants-"
"No we give him everything he needs."
"Babe."
"Okay, okay we give him everything he needs and everything he wants."
"We're spoiling him."
"But he's my baby, my only baby."
"The world doesn't care if he's our baby."
"But, he's sweet-natured."
"Babe, I don't want to raise a kid with a trust-funder mentality."
"A what?"
"An entitled view of the world."
Stephanie frowned. She wanted everything for Frankie and for everything to be easy for him. Just like her parents worked hard so that her life was easier than theirs. She knew Ranger's parents did the same for him.
Now they worked hard so that Frankie's life would be easier than theirs. Ranger, especially, had been successful in his career and they lived a lifestyle that was so different than their upbringing. They had a large home in a comfortable, safe neighborhood, drove fancy, foreign cars, ate good food and dressed well. They had money in the bank and money for fun. Why shouldn't they give their son everything.
Stephanie said, "We can get him the kit for his birthday. That way he can learn to wait for things."
"He does need to learn to wait. However, if he wants that toy, he's going to have to earn the money for it."
"Why?"
"Life lesson."
"What? How's he going to earn the money? He's too young."
Ranger waited.
"I guess we could pay him to do his chores" said Stephanie.
As soon as he was able, Frankie had chores. Daily, he made his bed, put his dirty clothes in the hamper, put away his toys and took his dish and silverware to the sink. He would also strip his bed on laundry day and help with the recycling. These chores were part of the routine of Frankie's life.
"No. Chores are part of family life. He doesn't get paid for doing his part in running the household."
"Then what can he possibly do to earn the money?" asked Stephanie.
"He can sell lemonade. This Saturday."
As was the case for most things in Frankie's life, after his parents agreed to a plan of action, Ranger explained the situation to Frankie and Stephanie explained it to the grandmothers, all four of them, and to Ella, Rangeman's housekeeper par excellence and Frankie's adopted Tia.
The grandmothers, and Tia Ella agreed that Frankie needed to be taught a lesson on greed, privilege and gratitude. Bisa was particularly proud of Ranger's solution, noting that it was something she would have done with her children, if any had proven to be an ingrate.
Grandma Plum, who made great from scratch lemonade, offered her recipe and kitchen assistance. Grandma Mazur offered to be the barmaid and wondered what she should wear. Abuela Manoso said that she and Abuelo Enrique would travel from Newark to help. Tia Ella offered to make a sign and embroider a t-shirt for Frankie. Bisa, who lives in Miami, sent her love.
Frankie was not as easily convinced as his grandmothers and Tia. Frankie still felt that if he wanted the toy, then he should have it.
Ranger looked at Frankie's room. The room, while tidy, was laden with toys, books and games. Every shelf was filled with Frankie's paraphernalia.
When Frankie argued that he had nothing to play with, at least nothing new to play with, Ranger said, "If you want that new LEGO kit, you have to get rid of the toys you aren't playing with and you have to buy the kit with your own money."
"I don't have money. Will you give me some?"
"No."
"But I don't have money."
Ranger pointed to the piggy bank on Frankie's dresser. "Is there money in there?"
Frankie gasped. "No. Yes. But I don't wanna-"
"Want to what?"
"I don't wanna use that money."
"Why?"
"Cause . . . cause, it's mine. I saved it."
"And you want to use my money to buy a toy?"
Frankie nodded.
"No. You're going to have to use your own money to buy this toy and you're going to have to give away the toys you don't play with."
Frankie pointed at the piggy bank. "What if I don't have enough?"
"Then you'll have to earn the rest of the money."
"But I'm little. I'm too little to go to work."
Ranger smiled, it was a good defense. "You're not that little. You can make and sell lemonade."
Ranger got two boxes and with his son's help, packed them with the toys that Frankie neglected.
Frankie said a final good-bye to his old toys when they took the boxes to the local charity shop.
On Thursday, Frankie, with the help of his Mom and the laptop created flyers for his lemonade stand. They texted the flyers to family and friends. Hard copies were hand-delivered to his parents' businesses, Rangeman and Vinnie's Bonds' Shop.
On Friday, Stephanie, her mother, her grandmother and Frankie went to the food warehouse and bought supplies for the lemonade stand, including a tabletop beverage dispenser. Frankie, his parents decided, would be responsible for paying for the lemons from his proceeds.
On Saturday morning, the Manosos awoke to a beautiful late spring day. The sky was a bright, saturated blue dotted with foamy clouds. The weather was warm and dry. Ranger was especially pleased that rain wasn't forecasted. If it was a soggy day, this life lesson would have to either be postponed or underwritten by him.
By 10:00 AM, Ranger, Abuelo Enrique and Grandpa Plum, were setting up the lemonade stand (a banquet table and portable canopy tent) in the Manoso's driveway. Ella's husband, Luis, was conscripted to post signage. He taped a "Frankie's Lemonade $2" banner to the front of the table and put signs on each street corner. Ella added balloons for pizzazz.
Grandma Plum made the lemonade. Frankie did quality control by tasting the drink and pronouncing it just right.
At 11:00 AM, outfitted in his "Frankie's Lemonade" t-shirt and with a small business loan from his father of twenty singles to make change, Francis Albert Plum Manoso was ready to sell lemonade.
Frankie was disheartened that there wasn't a line at his counter exactly at opening. After all, he had money to make and a Hovercraft kit to buy. Eventually customers started to trickle in.
The first customers were Mr. and Mrs. Botero, who live across the street from the Manosos. The Boteros, who were in their late fifties, were a cuddly type of couple who were grand childless, but had a grand puppy in Chicago. They were usually interested in what was what in Frankie Land, as they referred to it.
The Boteros were pleased to be the young businessman's first customers. Frankie explained to the Boteros that for two dollars, you got a glass of lemonade and a refill. Frankie took his neighbors' money and handed it to his cashier, Abuelo Enrique. He then stamped the Boteros' hands so that they could get their refills. Grandma Mazur, who made good on her promise to barmaid, handed the Boteros their drinks.
Soon other neighbors queued at the counter and bought glasses of lemonade. Then there was a lull that lasted forever in Frankie's view of things, but was only about ten minutes. A sleek, black SUV cruised up the street and parked in front of the Manoso's home. Uncle Tank (Rangeman's second in command and Frankie's Godfather), Aunt Lula and their toddler, Tallie, emerged from the vehicle. All three looked parched and in need of lemony hydration.
Tallie held out her sippy cup and said "Lemons ade, please. Mama do I like lemons ade?" Grandma Mazur filled the cup and Tallie took a gulp, then she took another. "Mama I like lemons ade. I do. Do you like it?"
"Yes baby, I like lemonade." Lula said to Frankie, "Two glasses of the house special for Uncle Tank and me."
Frankie whispered to Grandma Mazur, "What's a house special?"
Grandma Mazur whispered back, "the lemonade."
Tank placed a ten on the counter and said, "Frankie, the Man, Manoso, proud of you. Keep the change."
Business continued at a slow but steady pace for the next few hours. Connie, Stephanie's co-worker, Stephanie's sister Valerie and her family and Frankie's friend Harry and his mom came by to support the venture. As things were winding down, another sleek black SUV pulled up by the Manoso house. Hal from Rangeman exited the vehicle with a large container in hand.
"Fill-er up" said Hal, "we're thirsty back at the office."
Frankie looked at Grandma Mazur and his Abuelo. They looked at the beverage dispenser. There wasn't much lemonade left. Grandma Mazur said to Frankie, "Go get your grandmother."
Helen Plum looked at the container and said, "since this is a large order, we'll make a fresh batch, right Frankie?" Helen took the container in her arms and said, "Frankie ask Hal, I mean your customer, if he can wait a few minutes. Mother give Hal a glass of lemonade while he waits."
Hal inhaled his glass of lemonade. "Mighty fine lemonade." When he got Rangeman's order, Hal waved a fifty at Frankie. "Is this enough?"
Frankie nodded and grabbed the money.
After Frankie and his staff had been fed a late lunch of Shorty's pizza, salads and brownies, it was time to count the takings.
Abuelo Enrique, cashier and bookkeeper to Frankie's Lemonade, counted the contents of the cash box. "Eighty- seven, eighty-eight, eighty-nine, ninety. Ninety dollars total. Thanks in part to that big order from Rangeman."
"Wow!" said Frankie. "I can buy two, three, a hundred toys."
Ranger interrupted his son's euphoria. "Ninety dollars before expenses."
"Uh?"
"You have to pay for the lemons. And you have to repay the twenty dollars I fronted you to make change."
"Oh." Frankie was hoping Mommy and Daddy would forget that.
"Babe, how much for the lemons?"
"I don't know, um."
"Babe."
"Ten dollars," said Grandma Mazur.
Ranger held out his hand, "Thirty dollars of expenses. Twenty to me and ten to your mother."
Abuelo Enrique, counted out the money and gave it to Frankie. Frankie, in turn, reluctantly gave the money to his parents.
"Frankie, you have profits of sixty dollars. Very good," said Abuela Enrique, as he gave his youngest grandchild a knuckle bump and a high five.
"You know Francisco; I think that you should give some of profits to charity to do good for others," said Abuela.
"I did."
"You did?"
"Uh huh. I gave my old toys to char-it-y."
"He did Mama," said Ranger. "To get this new toy, Frankie had to give some of his old toys away and use his own money to buy the new toy."
"Ranger, I agree with your mother on this," said Helen Plum, "I think that Frankie should give some of his profits to charity.
"But, I gave my toys."
"Frankie, giving to charity is not one and done," said Ranger. "Every time I get paid, I tithe. I learned to do that from Abuelo and Abuela."
"What's tight?"
Abuelo Enrique answered, "Tithe is when you give ten percent of your earnings to charity. Do you understand?"
Frankie shook his head.
Abuelo took ten singles from Frankie's earnings and put them on the table and asked Frankie to count them. "How many dollars do you have there?"
"Ten."
"When you tithe, you give away one dollar to charity for each ten dollars you earn. So if you earn ten dollars, you keep nine dollars and one dollar goes to charity. You earned sixty dollars today. To tithe you should give six dollars to charity."
Frankie looked at the sea of adult faces in front of him. "Do you tight?"
They all nodded.
"Abuelo, I'll tight too. I'll give money to Our Lady tomorrow when Daddy and I go to Mass."
After Mass, Ranger took his son and his net earnings of fifty-four dollars to the store to buy the Hovercraft kit.
Frankie looked at the kit from every possible angle. Then he thought about the new toys he found when they were cleaning out the old ones. Then he thought about how much work he had to do to earn the fifty-four dollars in his pants' pocket.
Ranger handed the toy to Frankie and said, "Ready?"
Frankie thought again and put the toy back on the shelf. "Not today."