Sour Summer

Outside the Read house, summer's heat took over the landscape, making it shimmer with its unbearable hotness. Inside, the air conditioner was running full blast, but all of them were still sitting around lazily, trying to figure out some way to stay cool.

Inside the kitchen, Mrs. Read pulled a bag of lemons from the fridge that she'd almost forgotten about. When Mr. Read saw them, he knew they should make the Read family's world famous lemonade, and they should finally get the kids to help. DW was playing in her room and didn't want to be disturbed, and Arthur was trying to watch Bionic Bunny reruns in the living room.

"Well that was a flop," Mr. Read sighed, patting his wife on the back. "At least Kate is here," he smiled, tickling her cheeks and making her giggle. "Alright, let's talk you through it, Kate. You won't be old enough to make this for a while, but we can still show one of our grateful children."

"David, will you slice the lemons while I get the sugar?" Mrs. Read requested. Mr. Read nodded, and the making of the lemonade began.

Because slicing the lemons and getting the seeds out was a little time-consuming, Arthur and DW emerged to see what their parents wanted before. Both were interested in helping, but there wasn't much to do at the moment but squeeze the lemon juice using a juicer.

"But there's only one," DW noticed. Mrs. Read nodded, still deseeding the lemons to add to the "to be juiced" pile.

"We'll share, DW. I'll go first because I'm older," Arthur smiled.

DW pouted, "No, I'll go first because I'm younger!"

"He's squeezed orange juice before, DW. Let him show you how first, then you can go," Mrs. Read offered. DW shook her head. She was tired of not being first, and she snatched the juicer towards her while the lemon Arthur was just beginning to squeeze sat on top.

The lemon went flying through the air, spinning and spinning until it landed on the front of Kate's highchair, spinning and twirling in front of her young eyes like the greatest yellow toy ever made. The Read family was frozen as they watched her poke at the lemon, then grab at it. They didn't know what she would do next, but they should have. All babies explore things with their mouths, especially Baby Kate.

Kate began to scream as the sour sensation took over her tongue, and she tossed the lemon out of sight as her family rushed to comfort her. Her face was scrunched and unhappy until the sour sensation was washed away with a bottle of watered-down grape juice.

"Her first lemon," Mr. Read smiled. "I just wish I had the camera like I did with you two. She won't go near one again for a while, knowing her."

"Oh well, back to work. And stop fighting over the juicer, DW. Arthur first, then you can do two, then him one, and so on until the pile is juiced. Is that understood?" Mrs. Read asked with a motherly tone. DW nodded solemnly, watching Arthur pick up another lemon half to try again.

Across the room, Pal had entered the kitchen, sniffing out his human companions. He knew they were working with some sort of food, so he checked out his bowl to see if he'd been left anything. Inside was a bright, yellow thing that reminded Pal of a tennis ball, but when he licked it, his tail flew between his legs and his face contorted into a strange position.

"Arthur, what's wrong with your goofy dog?" DW asked as Pal ran into the kitchen wall, trying his hardest to get away from the super sour taste in his mouth.

"Oops, Kate must've rung his bowl," Mr. Read chuckled, seeing the lemon in his bowl. He plucked it out, tossing it into the compost bin before slicing up lemons thin to go inside the lemonade. "Man, I could've used a camera for that too," he laughed, shaking his head as Pal collapsed next to Kate's highchair, the taste finally going away.

"Pal! Psst! Pal!" Kate called from above. Pal looked up with weary eyes. "Sorry I tossed that thing into your bowl. It was so foul-tasting! I just had to get it away from me."

"No worries, Kate," Pal sighed. "Just remind me to stop licking things I'm not sure about," he groaned, laying his head down and trying to forget the entire day.