Seeing two young children selling lemonade the other day reminded me of this old poem:
A boy of three, a girl of four,
Were playing house one day.
They played that they were man
and wife,
And they were going away.
They knocked upon the neighbor’s door,
The little girl bowed low,
“This is my husband; I’m his wife
We’re visiting, you know.”
“Come in, come in” the lady said
“And take yourself a seat,
I’ll bring you both some lemonade
And something good to eat.”
She gave them each a big tall glass
A cookie on a plate,
She offered them a second cup
Of fresh lemonade.
“Oh, no, thank you,” the wee lass said
As she took the small boy’s hand:
“We really have to go now,
my husband wet his pants.”
Author Unknown