Fancy Stuff for Sale...

Sometimes it hits me like a brick over the head that I have boys.  

This was one of those times.

I was inside actually trying to primp for the day.  The boys were out in the garage.  I heard shuffling.  The doors opened and closed.  Running footsteps. More clambering.  Since I didn't hear screaming/crying/or a fire alarm, I rolled with it.

When I emerged from the "powder room" all dolled up (fine - with dry hair and a little make up on) I saw this.

A boomin' business.  Complete with punch bags and juice boxes for sale and neighbor kids galore.

 They had even recruited a bigger neighborhood boy to write up their menu board and completed their little ensemble with a money jar.  Because, duh.  

And that is when I saw first hand that a dolled up and darling lemonade stand may or may not be more lucrative than a bare bones situation.  It's your basic Relief Society/Elders Quorum joke but it's SO real.

Like a good mama, I tried to doll it up a little bit.  With a sign and piss-pore bubble letters because I'm not in high school anymore and I'm out of practice.

 For the record, sales did not increase.  But remained steady all day.  

This has been a science experiment brought to you by "da boyz club"... of which I am an honorary member.  Boo-Ya.