The Mowers

 

(girl fashionably making most of rainy day)

 

Along with blogging,

 

Brainstorming good entrepreneurial business ideas is one of my hobbies.

 

Trying to think of creative ways to make money is behind the brainstorming.

 

It must come from my genetic code. In my early years I remember an aunt pushing the idea to sell Popsicles at the 4th of July parade. We would only have to figure how to keep the ice cream from melting while pulling the boxes of refreshment in a red wagon down the poop laden streets of historic down town.

(lots of horses in these parades)

The ideas kept trickling in my brain since then. Hence, J's can recycling job, so on and so forth. 

 

Speaking of fourths,

One 4th, not too long ago, I made a huge effort to get down to an area on the parade route located by the Y, which sits atop the first swimming pool I ever laid eyes on. Horrible memory. For another post

 

Anyway, this day was on one of the coldest days in Idaho 4th of July history. Or at least my parade going history here.

 

I found myself trying to keep my dress from flying up in the wind and in my mind I was berating myself for not getting J. out there with a wagon full of hot chocolate.

 

I had it all worked out except for how he would keep the water from burning him and customers.

 

Dang, we would have made a haul that year. Oh, well. Subsequently it was also a year where my kid did something that he had to be "punished" for. So after seeing the horses and BMX riders pass us by and then some government employees in topless Le Sabre vehicles, I had to make the decision no parent wants to do.

 

Spanking was off the table. So I had to walk him back to the car, early. Him crying and begging for a second chance.

 

I wish I would've spanked him to make a good show for the relatives present and so he could have finished off the parade. But you know how important consistency is in childrearing.

 

Yeh, right my rear.

 

Note to any of you" newbie parents" out there- Pick your battles. And don't listen to what the book says. Especially the one about them sleeping on their own right when you leave the hospital

 

Follow your gut and your heart. Don't be ashamed of it You know your kid And you get the op to screw him or her up by virtue of being their parent and choosing If you choose badly, they can go to counseling.

Not a big deal.

 

I wish I would've just shrugged when he had a tantrum moment, commented on how evil children are and stayed. With my foot upon the child of course. It Would've saved me folding the chairs back up after all the effort of getting to the spot and trudging through the parade goers as a kid cried at my feet and tried to tug at my skirt that was wrapped around my face. (due to the wind)

 

That I could handle.

 

The heart break you give your kid. Well, I guess it is for the professionals with PhDs, bystanders, and J. to judge.

 

Where was I? Oh, money!

 

You'd have thought working for a brokerage firm would have landed me in the perfect position to invest all that money from my Kool-Aid Stand ideas. Actually, I took the job to be down the street from my doctors... I sorta fell into having to become a broker and it hasn't had one single effect on being broke at all.

(it helps to be healthy in these business ventures.)

 

However, working there was not a total waste. I did receive some sort of

 

Gone Fishin' Award. (I mean gone workin')

 

Which was an award the firm gave to those who brought in assets, etc. The paper I received had a boat sitting on a lake with a fishing pole in the water. No human present.

And a sign hung on the boat that read: Gone Workin'.

 

Meaning: That human was actually working to get more money for said firm.

While those that owned the firm were on a yacht somewhere fishing.

 

So, I have had to pass this important gene on to J. so that he can have some hobbies and instead of fishing, be working.

 

One day some time ago I told him that he could accrue several more lawns to mow the older he could grow. He was six or something.

 

I tried to come up with some clever names like: Mom and Me Mowing. But I imagined him when he was in his teens and having to deal with this sort of decal on a truck he drove and he might be embarrassed.

 

In all his glorious, child like wisdom he came up with the perfect name....

 

The Mowers.

 

Isn't that brilliant? I glowed with utter satisfaction and quickly tried to reward him with a piece of paper award, so he could show future employers so as to help him get a job.

 

I know that something like that will be a huge resume builder.

 

Oh, and I also had it ingrained in me about saving money. Which really is a good thing.

Oh, by the way.

Going to a movie like out to Edward's Theater, is excruciatingly painful.

I can not think of a bigger way to watch your money burn.

 

However, I was given tickets and even had received a gift card to go there over three years ago.

One evening, the stars aligned and I was well enough to go.

 

J. and I had the best time.

 

I of course waited for a decent movie to come along. Yes, it took several years. But one came,

We went.

 

and we laughed.

 

It was well worth it.

 

I mean, I didn't have to pay for it. So that right there put the worth into most of it, but taking the time and pushing myself was so worth it.

 

I recall looking over at him through my 3-D glasses, which were placed over my regular glasses, at him giggling so hard while wearing his 3-D glasses over his regular glasses, and just smiling. Because his giggling had the other theater people giggling.

 

All of it over yellow, capsule medication looking animation. (what made him giggle)

 

And I couldn't help but wonder how come I didn't think of the idea of un cognisant little pills running around first.

 

Oh, well. Maybe next year's 4th of July will be cold and then J. and I will rule the world!

Because right now my blogging hobby has not brought in one cent.

Which really takes the pressure off.