Cops Bust Kids for Lemonade Stand: the Inside Story

News item: Texas Governor Greg Abbott signs into law a measure permitting children to have lemonade stands without getting a $150 peddler’s license first. The law resulted from police shutting down a child’s lemonade stand in Dallas.

My name’s Thursday. I carry a badge.

I was working the day watch out of the Youthful Offenders Unit when we got the call. Kids with illegal substances for sale. My partner Romero and I jumped in the squad car, turned on the siren and flashing lights, and sped to the address.

When we got close, we cut the siren and lights. We crept up on the scene because we didn’t want to alert the offenders. But there was no mistaking what they were selling.

Lemonade.

Without a permit.

My partner, Romero, shook his head sadly.

“They can’t be out of fifth grade,” he said. “They’re starting younger and younger these days.”

We jumped out of the patrol car and headed over to their illegal base of operations — a bridge table with a sign attached that read, “Lemonade, 50 cents.”

“We’re police officers,” I told the kids, a male and a female approximately nine and ten years of age. “Put the ladle down.”

“Do you want some lemonade, officers?” the little girl asked.

“Bribing a police officer is a crime,” I reminded them. “Let me see your permit.”

The boy said, “Our mommy gave us permission.”

“Your Mommy doesn’t have permission to give you permission,” I respectfully reminded the young miscreant. “Only the government has permission to give you permission, and that’s in the form of a permit. You have a permit?”

The boy and girl looked at each other.

“What’s a permit?” they both asked.

“It’s a document from the town that gives you the right to sell lemonade from a lemonade stand.”

“How much are they?” the boy asked.

“A peddler’s license goes for a hundred and fifty dollars,” I said.

“We only have two dollars and fifty cents,” the girl said.

“One dollar and fifty cents,” the boy said. “I bought gum.”

I quickly did the math. They’d made five sales.

“Did you collect sales tax on that two dollars and fifty cents?” I asked.

The boy and the girl looked at each other again.

“What’s sales tax?” they both asked.

At that moment, a woman, mid to late thirties, apparently unarmed, approached.

“Is there a problem, officers?” she asked.

“Mommy, these policemen are mean,” the girl said.

“Careful,” I warned her. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

“I’m their mother,” the woman said. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No, ma’am,” I replied. “These children are operating a lemonade stand without a permit. That’s in violation of Subsection 327.8582A of the town’s ordinances. They aren’t collecting sales tax, which is a violation of Subsection 829(a)(1)(b) of the State Revenue Code. And they attempted to bribe a peace officer, which is a violation of Subsection 429(b)(3) paragraph 6 of the State Penal Law. These kids are looking at twenty years.”

“Don’t you have real crimes to investigate?” the woman asked.

“Respectfully, ma’am, these are real crimes,” my partner told her. “Running a lemonade stand is a gateway to committing more serious crimes. First it’s just a lemonade stand. Then it’s riding a scooter on the sidewalk without a helmet. Then it’s an illegal yard sale in your garage on a Saturday morning. And then it’s just a short step to bank fraud, embezzlement, and even murder.”

“That’s insane,” the woman said.

“It’s policy,” I said. “We’re placing these children under arrest and we’re taking the lemonade stand downtown. It’s evidence. Kids, you have the right to remain silent.”

“I’m calling my husband,” the woman said.

“We’ve already picked him up for aiding and abetting,” I told her.

“This isn’t America!” the woman said. “I want my lawyer!”

“Can’t we sell the rest of the lemonade first?” the girl asked. “We’re saving up for a bicycle.”

“You won’t need a bicycle where you’re headed,” Romero said, as I radioed for backup.

“It’s sad to see criminal behavior in such young people,” I told the woman, “but this whole situation is a reflection of where society is headed these days. Okay kids, get into the back seat of the squad car. We’re going downtown.”

“Can I work the siren?” the boy asked.

“I’m afraid you don’t realize what a serious situation this is,” I told him.

We headed off.

“What kind of values is that mother teaching her children?” my partner asked. “Letting them run an illegal lemonade stand. Good thing we got here in time to shut it down.”

“I feel bad for her,” I admitted. “But really, when you think about how cops have to go out and bust lemonade stands, I feel even worse for our whole country.”