(enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))Ollie knew that look.
His older brother's eyes were wide, unblinking. Nostrils flared. Eyebrows high enough to touch the stratosphere. But it wasn’t until //Oliver// started pressing his eyelid—his signature signal of mild-to-moderate parental exasperation—that Ollie knew he needed a new strategy.
The eight-year-old’s brain spun like a hamster wheel as he sorted through plans A through M in search of a solid Plan N. But before he could land on anything persuasive, Oliver spoke.
“It’s not going to hurt you to be bored for a little while,” was all he said, but with those words Elio finally blinked. His eyebrows lowered. His nostrils returned to their default setting. The emergency had, for now, been downgraded.
The first few weeks of summer had been an absolute blast—lake trips, museum days, movies, even a backyard campout with flashlights and questionable marshmallow handling. But as July wore on, the children grew just a bit antsy, and the grown-ups grew just a // little bit// lazier. Lately, Elio had begun responding to Ollie’s constant declarations of impending boredom with increasingly impatient expressions. Like now, for instance.
Ollie quickly decided: best to redirect.
“Leo’s bored, too,” he said, throwing in a persuasive head-bob for emphasis.
Leo, caught completely off guard, looked up from his snack with wide eyes and shook his head in quiet protest, like a man who wanted no part in whatever this was. "I not are it," the baby of the family mumbled around his thumb, figuring it would cover all the bases no matter what they were talking about.
“See? He not are bored,” Elio said with a straight face.
As if on cue, Leo licked a fruit snack and stuck it to the tip of his nose, grinning like a holiday card version of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.
Ollie sighed dramatically. He’d tried everything. Well—//almost everything//. He did have one last trick, but it had historically been met with unpredictable results.
Still. Desperate times.
Ollie sucked in a deep breath and began: “Please, please, please, please, pretty please with sugar on top, can we do something fun?” he begged, poking out his bottom lip as far as it could go, aiming it directly at Elio’s heart.
Oliver pressed his eyelid again. Elio, however, softened the way he usually did when Ollie deployed the lip maneuver with full force.
“Hypothetically,” Elio said, “what fun thing would we be doing?”
“Yessssssssss,” Ollie hissed under his breath.
Elio raised a brow.//'' “Hypothetically,” ''//he repeated.
Ollie pretended to think very hard, eyes shifting upward, index finger floating up to tap his chin a few times. But actually, he’d been preparing this list for days, waiting for just the right moment to strike.
“Welllllllllllllllll,” he said, stretching the word dramatically, “Maybe I have a few ideas.”
He raised one finger and cleared his throat. “Choice One Is: Open a lemonade stand on the sidewalk, with free samples for dogs and maybe a top secret menu.”
A second finger joined the first. “Choice Two Is: Go to the swimming pool and do so many cannonballs that the lifeguard learns our names.”
And then a third finger: “Choice Three Is: Go to the park and let Leo be in charge for once, which will either be very fun or very dangerous.”
Leo gasped, thrilled. “I be a boss?”
Oliver not only pressed his eyelid, he also gave it a quick massage. “//Hypothetically,// Sweet Pickle,” Oliver muttered. "That means //maybe//."
The corners of Leo's mouth climbed even more somehow. "I maybe be a BOSS!" he squeaked. He tried to bounce like Ollie, but lost his balance and toppled over. Ollie helped him up without taking his eyes off the grown ups, lest the loss of eye contact break the protruding-lip spell.
Elio looked almost as skeptical about Ollie's plans as Oliver. “What kind of lemonade stand has a secret menu?”
“The best kind,” Ollie said. “Also, we could serve it in dinosaur cups," he added to ensure that Dill, at least, would be on his side.
And it worked like a charm --Leo threw both arms up like he was throwing pretend confetti. “Yes, fanks! Dino cups!”
Oliver sighed, the way he did when he was going to say yes eventually. Ollie might have gloated a tiny bit deep, deep down in his secret heart. “And if we went to the pool?” Oliver asked.
“Water Olympics,” Ollie answered immediately. “Plus Elio can finally demonstrate his legendary cannonball.”
“I never said it was legendary,” Elio protested.
“You didn’t have to,” Ollie said.
Elio blinked. “And the park?”
“Simple! We let Leo lead the way. He takes us wherever he wants. Could be a slide. Could be a worm hunt. Could be the secret clover patch. Nobody knows.”
Leo nodded solemnly. “I not know too.”
Elio glanced at Oliver. Oliver glanced back. And then they both sighed in unison one last time.
“Well,” Elio said, standing up, “you’d better choose one.”
“Only one?” Ollie said, scandalized.
“For now,” Oliver said. //“Hypothetically.”//
Ollie now had a hard choice to make.
What should Ollie choose?
[[Open a lemonade stand with secret menu items]]
[[Go to the swimming pool for cannonballs and chaos]]
[[Let Leo lead the way at the park]]
(enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))Ollie taped a hand-drawn sign to the front of the folding table that they'd cover with a red-checked tablecloth:
OLLIE & DILL’S LEMONADE STAND
Lemonade 25¢
(FIRST CUP FREE IF YOU SAY "ZEBRA")
"How does it look?" he asked, standing back like a gallery curator.
Elio tilted his head. “It would look better if you hadn’t used your left hand.”
Ollie scowled. “I won’t have time for left-handed writing practice today because of my new// job,// Elioooooooooo.”
“Two birds, one stone, Eliooooooooo,” Oliver echoed as he walked past with a thumbs-up and a wink.
Both Elio and Ollie giggled at that, but Leo was all business—wearing tweety bird sunglasses, sipping from a plastic dinosaur cup, and adjusting a single rubber glove like he was prepping for surgery.
Elio handed over the pitcher of lemonade. “Try not to start a citrus-based turf war, okay boys?”
Ollie gave him a solemn nod. “Only if someone else starts it first.” He straightened his notebook, ready to log all transactions and suspicious customer behavior. “So,” he said to Leo, tapping his pencil like a detective, “how should we attract our first customers?”
What should they do?
[[Shout dramatic lemonade slogans to the neighborhood]]
[[Send Elio down the street wearing a lemonade costume (we don’t have one, but we’ll figure it out)]]
[[Make Oliver freestyle a lemonade-themed rap.]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
The second they arrived at the community pool, Ollie was already halfway out of his shirt while hollering, “FIRST ONE IN IS A FIZZY WATER PANDA!”
Leo, wearing his dinosaur floaties (one right-side-up, even), took off in the opposite direction, arms flailing as he yelled, “I ARE CAN SPLASH!” at a hedge.
Elio dropped the pool bag with a dramatic thud. “Remind me again why we agreed to this?”
Oliver, who was already adjusting his sunglasses like a dad in a sunscreen commercial, replied calmly, "Because summer is long and we make questionable choices, honey." He dug around in the bag. “You did grab the sunscreen, right?”
“Yes,” Elio said, holding it up like a trophy. “I hid it in case Leo decided to do another taste test."
Once everyone was slathered, dotted, and rubbed to Oliver’s exacting standards (“You missed a spot—nope, still missed it”), the crew made their way to the edge of the pool.
Ollie climbed up to the diving ledge and struck a dramatic pose like a small sea god. (Or demi-god, at any rate.) “Are you ready, guys? I’m about to do the biggest cannonball in recorded history.”
“That’s a big promise,” Elio said, raising an eyebrow.
“Leo will be my witness,” Ollie replied solemnly, clearing his throat in a Leowardly direction.
Leo gave a thumbs-up, or tried to, from where he sat gnawing on a pool noodle like it owed him money.
There was a pause. A hush. A moment of silence for dry land.
And then—
SPLASH!
Ollie surfaced with his hair glued to his forehead and yelled, “OH MY GOSH!! I MADE A WAVE." He surveyed the surface of the water before adding, "I might have created tides!"
Oliver wiped a fine mist off his shirt with the weariness of a man who should have brought a backup shirt. “Well. You definitely created //something//.”
Now that everyone was soaked and the cannonball had officially been declared “historic” by Elio, the cannonball expert, it was time for their next great aquatic adventure.
Should they:
[[Organize the first annual Family Splash Olympics]]
[[Help Leo search the shallow end for sunken “treasures”]]
[[Convince Oliver to go down the waterslide just once, for science]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Leo’s eyes glimmered. He didn’t know what a *slogan* was, but he *did* know what *shouting* was—and shouting was one of his very favorite things to do. So naturally, he chose that one with the confidence of a toddler who'd once tried to name Ollie's green parakeet “Toilet.”
Ollie nodded his agreement with all the seriousness of a CEO, then climbed onto his chair, threw his head back dramatically, and bellowed,
**“FRESH LEMONADE! SERVED FRESH WITH CITRUS AND CHAOS!”**
Leo attempted to follow suit, but was intercepted mid-scramble by Oliver, who gently lifted him off the chair like a rogue party balloon. “The rule is you have to be eight to stand in chairs,” he said, inventing policy on the spot as he tended to do.
Leo was unbothered, and //he// tended to be. He threw his head back just like Ollie had and roared, **“SEGASORE!”** while shaking his plastic dinosaur cup like a pom pom and then frowning at it for throwing lemonade all over him. He blinked, betrayed.
A man walking a small, offended-looking fluffy dog jumped. The dog barked in alarm. Elio, who was trying unsuccessfully to look like he lived somewhere else, gave a polite little wave.
“You might want to dial it down just a tad,” Oliver suggested from the porch, sipping his own lemonade. Better to keep a safe distance.
“CHECK!” Ollie shouted back, saluting.
“CHEX!” Leo echoed loyally, licking up some of the lemonade on his arm.
**How should the boys dial it down?**
[[Invent a quieter but very mysterious whisper campaign]]
[[Pretend the lemonade stand is actually a secret mission]]
[[Offer a free show where Leo wrestles the air and wins every time]]
(enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))“No, Ollie.” Elio was shaking his head back and forth like a bobblehead who had seen things. //Unspeakable things. //
“Pleeeeease though?” Ollie begged for what was definitely the billionth time that day. Possibly the trillionth, depending on how you measured time in Lemonade Stand Hours.
“Absolutely not,” Elio said, now shaking his head so hard it looked like he might lift off the ground. “No. Noooo. Still no.”
Ollie stuck out his lower lip like he was deploying a secret weapon.
And just like magic, Elio’s head-swishing began to slow. “We don’t even have a lemonade costume, Ollie.”
Ollie poked his lip out further. He was pretty sure he sprained his face doing it, but heroes didn’t quit in the line of duty. “You’re super DUPER creative though. I know you could think of something.”
Elio sighed like someone who had seen the battlefield—and it was covered in construction paper and glitter glue. “I guess I’ll have to improvise,” he groaned, trudging into the house like a man on a quest he never signed up for.
Ollie beamed at Leo. “And that’s how it’s done, Dill,” he whispered smugly.
Leo, catching on, stuck his own lips out like a tiny duck.
Ollie nodded approvingly. “Not to me, though,” he added quickly. “Only use that with Elio. And Daddy. And maybe Grandpa Richard and Grandma Susan if you’re in a jam.”
“Chex,” Leo agreed around the thumb in his mouth.
A few minutes later, Elio reemerged wearing a bright yellow T-shirt with a sticky note on it that said:
I’M LEMONADE.
Leo shrieked, “PAPA JUICE!” and proudly handed him a plastic cup like he was crowning a king.
Elio took his place at the curb, smiling at confused joggers and trying not to look like he’d lost a bet.
“This might be the weirdest job I’ve ever had,” he muttered.
Oliver, sipping lemonade from the porch: “And that’s really saying something, honey.”
What should they do next?
[[Let the boys design a better costume using tape, fabric scraps, and imagination]]
[[Tell Elio he’s now the official Lemonade Mascot™ and must dance for customers]]
[[Put Clover the parakeet on his shoulder and declare him the Lemonade Pirate™]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))Instead of shouting, Ollie and Leo began to whisper to every passerby like they were sharing a neighborhood secret.
“Pssst,” Ollie whispered, cupping his hands like a spy. “This lemonade stand may or may not be magical. Tell no one.”
“I say to no one,” Leo whispered solemnly, holding out a dinosaur cup like it was an ancient treasure.
Curious neighbors leaned in. One asked, “Is it really magical?”
Ollie just tapped his nose and said, “All I can say is… the lemons might be from space.”
By the end of the afternoon, they had sold out entirely. The last cup went to a teenager who refused to drink it in front of them, just in case it turned her into a unicorn.
As they packed up, Elio whispered, “So… are the lemons actually from space?”
Ollie grinned. “That’s classified.”
Leo nodded.
Eventually Oliver brought out cookies, and they all sat under the tree like members of a citrusy secret society, proud of their quiet, weird little success.
"We cleared a buck fifty after expenses," Oliver said.
"I'd call it a successful day, then," Elio said.
"And now I'm barely even bored!" Ollie said.
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))"I figured out just what to do!" Ollie said, slapping a “TOP SECRET” sticky note onto the side of the lemonade table. He whispered into a banana like it was a walkie-talkie. “Base, stand by. We're ready in three, two, one.”
Elio leaned on the porch rail and called out, “Operation Lemon Drop is a go.”
From then on, every customer had to give a code word—like “zebra,” “pickleboots,” or “Captain Lemonhead”—to receive their cup of lemonade. Ollie handed them over like he was delivering confidential documents.
One neighbor got so into it she returned later wearing dark sunglasses and handed them a paperclip as payment. Ollie accepted it with a solemn nod. "Code word zipperbunches," he whispered.
"Zipperbunches," she said with a smile.
Eventually they ran out of lemonade, but no one cared. The mission had been a success.
"We made a buck fifty profit," Oliver announced.
"AND a paperclip," Ollie added.
"We did it, Juice Base," Elio said, offering high fives all around.
Leo shouted into the banana-walkie-talkie, “I DO IT IT!! I DO IT ALLLL BY MYSELF!”
Oliver just shook his head and muttered, “I don’t even want to know what Juice Base is, do I honey?”
"Probably not," Elio agreed.
"You don't know either, do you?" Oliver pressed his smiling lips to Elio's head, just above his ear.
"I have no idea. I just made it up, obviously," Elio said, turning his head to offer Oliver his lips as well.
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))Ollie stood with his arms crossed like a tiny manager. “Elio,” he said solemnly, “you are now the Official Lemonade Mascot™.”
Elio blinked. “That sounds like a lot of responsibility.”
“It is,” Ollie confirmed. “You’ll need to dance. Probably wave. Maybe do some lemon-related jingles.”
Elio turned to Oliver for backup.
Oliver tried to hide his enormous grin behind his lemonade cup. “Don’t look at me, honey. Mascot law is binding.”
Leo handed Elio a dish towel and whispered, “Cape.”
Elio sighed the sigh of a man who knew resistance was futile. Then, standing proudly beside the lemonade table, he struck a pose and began a dance that could only be described as part interpretive lemon, part jazz hands, part enthusiastic flailing.
A group of kids across the street started clapping. One shouted, “GO, LEMONADE GUY!”
Ollie joined in with a kazoo he found in the bottom of the snack bin. Leo bounced up and down wiggling his fingers in Elio's direction while whining, “Dance me, Papa! DANCE ME!”
By the time the last cup of lemonade was sold and the kazoo confiscated for safety reasons, Elio was sweating, laughing, and still wearing his dish towel cape.
“Best lemonade stand ever,” Ollie declared, collecting their earnings: seventy-five cents, one shiny rock, and a drawing of a crab labeled “for mascot.”
Elio held up the drawing. “I’m framing this.”
Leo wrapped an arm around Elio’s leg and mumbled, “Lemon Papa.”
“I will try to live up to the title,” Elio said, ruffling his hair.
"Popsicles, anyone?" Oliver appeared at just the right time, with just the right thing as he always seemed to do. They all sat on the porch together eating --and dripping-- popsicles as the sun dipped lower in the sky. Lemonade-sticky, slightly sunburned, and entirely satisfied.
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))Leo gave his Papa a disapproving headshake and mumbled, "No Fanks," around his thumb.
Ollie looked pointedly at his big brother, then pressed a weary eyelid. "Come on, Dill," he muttered. "You're in charge of the stand," he said to Elio before marching into the house.
A few minutes later, Elio stood very still as Leo circled him with a roll of tape, several scraps of mismatched fabric, and a determined squint.
“You stay,” Leo ordered, sticking a sock to Elio’s shoulder like a fashion epaulet. Elio didn't ask if the order was for the sock or him, deciding some things were better left a mystery.
Ollie brought over a cardboard box, labeled in marker: Lemon Helmet. DO NOT EAT.
When the boys were finished, Elio was wearing what could only be described as a sparkly fruit cloak, a lemon helmet, and a smile that said “I regret both everything and nothing.”
A passing neighbor applauded. Leo took a bow.
“I think we’ve reached the pinnacle of costume design,” Elio said.
"I'll take a lemonade," the man said.
"Yesssssssssssss," Ollie hissed under his breath. Out loud he said, "Dill! Dino cup!"
By late afternoon, the lemonade was gone, the sign had been redesigned four times, and Leo was covered in more lemon juice than he’d consumed.
Ollie counted the profits: two quarters, a pinecone, a drawing of a cat, and a coupon for free ice cream from someone’s grandma.
“Best. Day. Ever,” he declared, flopping down in the grass.
Elio sat beside him, still wearing his sticky note. “So this is what success tastes like.”
“Lemon and a little dirt,” Ollie agreed.
Leo lifted his cup and yelled, “I DO IT!!”
They clinked cups—one full of imaginary lemonade, one with half-melted ice, and one now home to a curious ladybug.
Oliver stepped outside just in time to hear Ollie say, “Next time, we charge double.”
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
“Today,” Ollie declared grandly, standing on a rock like a tiny town crier, “Leo is in charge. He chooses the route. He chooses the activity. He chooses the snack priority order.”
Leo, crouched nearby with a graham cracker crumb stuck to his cheek, blinked. Then stood up straighter.
“I’m a boss?” he asked, pointing to his own chest.
“You’re Boss of the Park,” Elio confirmed solemnly. “But with great park power comes great park responsibility.”
Leo gave a two-finger salute with the hand that was still holding half a cracker, then spun around twice and flopped his arms dramatically.
“Where to, Captain?” Ollie asked, bowing low with an exaggerated flourish.
Leo paused, scanned the horizon (which mostly consisted of a slide, a tree, and one squirrel who looked to be committing crimes), and then pointed decisively. “We go!” he said, following the squirrel like it owed him money.
They walked. And walked. And walked—roughly thirty-five feet—before Leo stopped, did a full circle, and started talking to the wind.
“Dis way. No, fanks—dat way. No, fanks—dat way!” he shouted, spinning in random directions since he'd lost sight of the squirrel.
Oliver, hiking along with the picnic bag, leaned toward Elio and whispered, “Do we have a plan?”
“Nope,” Elio whispered back, grinning. “We have a Leo.”
Eventually, they reached the grassy part of the park. Leo marched ahead and stood at the top of the hill like a general surveying his kingdom. He looked very official, despite having yogurt on his shirt and one sock halfway off.
He raised both arms and declared, “WE ROLL.”
Ollie saluted immediately. “Yes, sir. Rolling status: locked and loaded.”
Elio chuckled. “Any other missions today, Boss?”
Leo thought for a moment, sucking his thumb and squinting at the sandbox. Then he turned back to them wearing the very dangerous expression of a toddler with plans.
Should they:
[[Race to the top of the hill and do the Leo Roll]]
[[Follow Leo on a very serious bug hunt near the sandbox]]
(enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))Ollie, naturally, appointed himself Head Splash Judge and Referee. He made a medal out of a bottle cap and declared the diving board "The Arena of Champions."
Elio had to compete in the Elegant Backwards Scoot, Oliver was entered in the Precision Float, and Leo, when asked what event he wanted, just yelled, “BUBBLES!” and ran into the water flapping his arms.
Ollie attempted a synchronized routine with Leo, which mostly involved spinning in circles and yelling “FLIP MODE!” until they got dizzy.
The final event—The Epic Splash-Off—ended with Oliver accidentally soaking a sunbathing teenager who had not consented to any Olympics. He apologized and gave her his towel. She accepted his peace offering and gave them a 6.5 out of 10.
At the end, Ollie raised his bottle cap medal over his head. “We did it,” he said. “We honored the sacred traditions of summer.”
Leo hiccuped and whispered, “I win! I win a bubble race!”
“You always win the bubble race,” Ollie told him. “You’re undefeated.”
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Ollie and Leo prowled the shallow end like professional sea archaeologists—but Leo’s arm floaties made it tricky to dive underwater. Every time he tried to slip beneath the surface, his floaties popped him right back up like a buoy.
Leo scrunched his face in frustration, waving a hand toward the water. “I not can,” he muttered, tugging at his floaties.
Ollie grinned and gave him a reassuring nudge. “You have to wear those. But don’t worry, Dill. I’m your official treasure hunter today.”
With a practiced splash, Ollie dove in, emerging moments later with a half-dissolved blue crayon held high like an ancient artifact. “LOOK! Ancient markings!” he declared dramatically.
“That must be from a forgotten civilization of pool scribes," Elio put in, waggling his eyebrows. He could get into this!
Leo’s eyes lit up, and he brandished a soggy chunk of pool noodle.
“Yum. You found some dragon meat,” Ollie said, causing Leo to grin and brandish the noodle like a proud knight wielding his sword.
Together, they (//they// being Ollie) collected a pink hair tie, a lone flip-flop with a faded sticker, a Barbie hand (just the hand), and—most intriguingly—a quarter wedged between the tiles.
Ollie inspected the quarter carefully. “Great. I think this one’s cursed,” he whispered, clutching it like a dark talisman. “It was facing tails-up... and it tingled a little.” He threw it back for good measure.
From a lounge chair, Elio called out, “No licking the pool artifacts!”
“Too late!” Ollie yelled back cheerfully.
Oliver floated waded in and floated over on a foam raft, casually dipping his toes in the water. “Any sign of the Lost Pool Ring of Destiny?”
Leo stood, holding up a broken pair of goggles like a trophy. “I FIND IT!!”
Oliver's head tilted slightly, but the toddler was so pleased with himself that Oliver took the googles and thanked him.
By the end of the hunt, their treasure pile looked like something Ariel and a very confused seagull might collect—but Ollie wrapped it all in a towel like it was pure gold.
“This goes in the museum,” Ollie announced solemnly, water dripping from his hair.
“What museum?” Elio asked, reaching for a juice pouch.
“The one we’re opening in the laundry room.”
Leo, wrapped snugly in a damp towel and looking like a tiny burrito, added, “I like a music-eum.”
Elio laughed, while Oliver settled beside him, toweling his hair for him.
For a quiet moment, they watched the boys—Ollie cataloging pool debris with grand flair, and Leo trying to put sunglasses on a poolside chair.
Oliver nudged Elio gently, draping the towel over his shoulders. “Those two are ridiculous.”
Elio smiled, leaning his head against Oliver’s shoulder. “Ridiculous and perfect."
"And ours.” Oliver agreed.
What should they do next?
[[Try to auction the pool treasures to passing strangers (for lemonade money)]]
[[Host a museum tour complete with a gift shop made of leaves and wet string]]
[[Hold a serious poolside meeting to discuss cursed coin removal protocol]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Leo didn’t exactly run—he galloped sideways, arms flapping wildly like he couldn’t decide if he was a goose, a rocket ship, or a wind-powered creature only he understood.
Ollie tore after him at full speed, yelling,
“WAIT FOR ME, CAPTAIN!” like they were on a top-secret mission to the center of the Earth.
Elio jogged behind them, clutching a water bottle and looking deeply concerned someone was going to twist an ankle, snap a femur, or somehow dislocate joy.
“Careful!” he called. “Careful-ish!”
At the top of the hill, Leo paused with one hand in the air like he was commanding a fleet.
“NOW…” he said with dramatic flair. “WE. ROLL.”
And then he flopped.
Fully flopped. Like a sack of giggling potatoes, tumbling and thumping and wheeeee-ing all the way down the hill in chaotic glory.
Ollie dove after him with the energy of a sugar-powered whirlwind, rolling so fast his hair stuck up like the world’s tiniest tornado. “THIS IS SCIENCE,” he yelled mid-spin.
Elio attempted a slower, more adult roll—something between a controlled descent and interpretive yoga—but mostly looked like someone fighting a ghost in a picnic blanket.
At the bottom, Oliver was waiting, leaning on a park bench, phone held up to record—and laughing so hard he nearly forgot to hit the button.
When all four ended up in a dizzy, grass-stained heap, Leo stood first. His curls were full of clover, and his face looked like it had personally bonded with the lawn.
“’GAIN.” he announced.
Elio flopped onto his back, arms out like a starfish. “Five-minute water break,” he begged. “Maybe ten.”
Ollie grinned, grass in his teeth and knees covered in mysterious patches of dirt. “Best park mission ever.”
Oliver bent over Elio and brushed a leaf off his shoulder, then leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I think that was the most chaotic thing we’ve done all week.”
“And it’s only Tuesday,” Elio murmured, closing his eyes with a smile.
Leo climbed onto Oliver’s shins like he was a jungle gym and handed him a dandelion.
Oliver accepted it like it was a medal. “An honor, sir.”
What should they do next?
[[Form a nature exploration team and search for bugs, feathers, and “wild treasures”]]
[[Use sticks to draw mysterious codes in the dirt and pretend it’s a secret map]]
[[Convince Oliver to race Leo down the hill on a towel “sled”]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Leo crouched near the sandbox like a tiny, determined entomologist in grass-stained dinosaur shorts. His hands were already full of sand, and his entire body leaned toward a tiny wiggling dot by a stick.
He pointed. “Bug,” he announced with wonder.
Then, after a pause—his eyebrows furrowed—he leaned closer, whispering suspiciously, “Alien.” He'd been really into aliens lately.
Elio knelt beside him, squinting through invisible science goggles. “No wings. Hmm. Very suspicious.”
Ollie, perched nearby with his trusty park notebook and a gel pen that only wrote in spurts, began documenting like a professional:
Wiggly. Slightly shiny. Possible treasure guardian. Definitely mysterious.
He slapped a crooked star sticker next to the entry. This was important work.
Together, the team explored a whole mini-ecosystem at the edge of the sandbox:
—A crumb-hauling ant parade
—A roly-poly that Leo wouldn’t let crawl more than an inch away (“Mine,” he whispered, cupping it gently)
—And a beetle that was immediately knighted “Mr. Wiggles” and toasted with a juice box cap of apple juice
Oliver sat on a nearby bench, sipping from the juice pouch Leo had pressed into his hand earlier with a look that was bordering on abuse of authority. He read aloud from Ollie’s newly invented Official Bug Names List:
“Entry #4: Sir Crinkle-Walk.
Entry #5: Madam Squiggles.
Entry #6: Dave.”
Everyone agreed Dave was probably up to something.
Then Leo lifted a rock—and yelped in delight as a sleepy worm wriggled free. He dropped the rock, jumped back, then flapped his arms like victory wings. “IT MOVE!” he cried, beaming so hard his nose scrunched.
The others clapped like it was the final act of a Broadway bug musical.
“I think we cracked the case,” Ollie said seriously, notebook on his knee. “They ''//are//'' aliens. They just don’t know it yet.”
Leo nodded, thumb in his mouth. “They not know,” he mumbled around his thumb.
When their fieldwork was finished, the family sat cross-legged in the grass, passing fruit snacks around while watching Mr. Wiggles crawl slowly—heroically—toward a sunbeam and a dandelion.
Elio leaned his shoulder into Oliver’s. “I think// they’re// the aliens.”
Oliver fed him a grape snack from his pouch and smiled. “Let’s keep that between us, Earthling.”
''What should they do next? ''
[[Build a sandcastle fortress with bug-sized furniture and a snack moat]]
[[Take turns hiding a treasure under a rock and giving each other clues to find it]]
(enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
“Guys," Ollie whined after a full three minutes had passed without a single customer. "Maybe everyone hates lemonade here." They'd tried shouting. They'd tried signs. Ollie had poked his lip out at a couple of passers-by, but they'd been immune.
Leo looked up from where he was drawing a lemon (yellow scribbles) with angry eyebrows (black scribbles). He waited for Ollie to unveil his next plan. Ollie nodded solemnly. “It’s time... for Daddy to RAP.”
Oliver, who had just come outside with a book and a peaceful expression, froze mid-step. “I’m sorry, time for //what// now?”
“It's no big deal. You just need to freestyle a small lemonade rap,” Ollie explained, like this was a completely normal request. “It’s the only way to get customers. It's marketing.”
“Like a jingle?"
Ollie nodded. He didn't really know what a jingle was, but Oliver seemed to be slightly less put off by the idea. Still, he scoffed at the idea. "I don't think so, Lollipop. Absolutely not." Oliver said this just as Ollie and Leo both poked their lower lips out in perfect unison, like synchronized swimmers of emotional manipulation.
Oliver sighed, muttering, “Say goodbye to my self-respect, honey,” and handed Elio his book like he was about to enter the ring.
He cleared his throat, adjusted his imaginary mic, and began:
“Yo, yo, yo—come get your sip,
We got lemonade so fresh it'll tickle your lip.
No sugar added, just citrus delight,
Served by small dudes in the broad daylight!"
Elio laughed so hard he nearly dropped Oliver's book.
Leo either added some beatboxing or was still spitting out the lawn clippings he'd taste-tested earlier.
Ollie, for his part, bounced up and down like one of the Beatles girls, while screaming, “Oh! My! Gosh!!" (Also like one of the Beatles girls.)
Oliver did a very slow, very dramatic bow. “Thanks, folks. We’ll be here all week.”
What should they do next?
[[Make a cardboard stage for more lemonade performances (whether Daddy wants to or not)]]
[[Let Leo try to beatbox using his cup and a handful of ice cubes]]
[[Write a new jingle and send it to Grandma’s voicemail like a commercial]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
While Ollie brainstormed new marketing tactics, Leo got hot and fussy which, long story short, led to his becoming entangled in a very dramatic struggle with the garden hose. It had looped around his leg, and he was growling and thrashing like it was a worthy opponent. He rolled. He kicked. He roared, “RAWRRRR!”
Ollie blinked, watching the chaos unfold. Then his eyes lit up.
“Elio,” he whispered, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I have an idea.”
“What?” Elio asked, trying to prevent a cup tower collapse.
Ollie leapt onto an overturned bucket like a ringmaster with a lemonade mission. “Ladies and gentlemen! For a limited time only, with every lemonade purchase, you get a front-row seat to the most epic battle in history…”
He swept his arm toward the lawn with flair.
“LEO VS. THE INVISIBLE ENEMY!” Then, out of the side of his mouth, he stage-whispered, "DILL! Come battle the invisible enemy!"
Leo, now freed from the hose, took the cue immediately. He leapt into the grass and began a full-on dramatic showdown with the air itself—flailing, rolling, and body-slamming the breeze with fierce determination.
Oliver shaded his eyes from the porch. “Who’s he fighting now, honey?”
“Unclear,” Elio said, sipping lemonade. “But I think he’s winning.”
Two neighbors stopped to watch. One even clapped. Both bought lemonade.
Leo finished the routine with a crooked somersault.
Ollie held up a lemonade cup. “Lemonade, twenty-five cents!” he called. “But the show is priceless.”
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Ollie galloped off to the recycling bin like a boy on a mission. A performance like that deserved a real stage! Within minutes, he bounded back over, draging a large piece of cardboard. Leo chased after him, carrying a roll of duct tape, and within a few short minutes --kid time-- or a few long hours --grown up time-- the front lawn had been transformed into the //Citrus Center Stage Ampitheater//, made entirely of broken down boxes, glitter glue, and very questionable structural integrity.
Oliver reluctantly kicked off his shoes and stood on the stage.
“I didn’t sign up for a one-man juice musical." He was grumbling, but offered no real resistance to the idea of providing an additional performance or two.
“You freestyled the first track,” Ollie reminded him, adjusting the tiny cardboard spotlight they’d built. “The people are thirsty. For lemonade and rhymes.”
Leo banged two plastic cups together like cymbals.
Oliver sighed, lifted a lemonade cup high, and rapped:
"Step right up to the Lemonade Floor,
We got juice, joy, and maybe a encore!"
The audience (consisting of Elio, the boys, two squirrels, and a //slightly// interested crow) went wild.
It wasn’t Broadway, but it was definitely block party legendary.
The End
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
The family watched, cringing, as Leo buzzed his lips and lawn clippings dripped down his chin, another a taste test gone awry. Ollie's cringe, though, began to shift into another expression, a slight, crooked smile. It was the expression that meant he’d Leo's lip buzzing had just given him a very good idea.
“Dill?” Ollie asked cautiously. "I didn't know you could beatbox. We can //use// that."
“No fanks!” Leo announced. He didn't know what bee boxing was, but if it involved tasting the lawn clippings again, he was out.
"Customers will love it! And t's your special talent!"
"I not can bee box," the toddler said. It sounded dangerous, anyway. The three-year-old had been stung by what he'd assumed was a //friendly// bee earlier in the summer and had keept a respectful distance from all flying insects ever since.
"You can though!" Ollie insisted. "You just did. All you have to do is drop some beats."
A dubious crease appeared between Leo's eyebrows, but he buzzed his lips slightly.
Ollie's head bobbed up and down approvingly. "Just like that!"
Oh. In that case, Leo was on board. He loved spitting and so rarely was allowed to do it. The toddler began smacking two cups together rhythmically, sending slushy sounds and splashes in every direction. A small, sticky beat emerged. Elio covered his mouth to keep from laughing. Oliver just barely ducked a flying lemon wedge.
“Ice-cube beatboxing,” Oliver muttered, blinking through droplets. “Of course.”
Ollie began chanting over the noise, “LEO'S ON THE BEAT! GET YOUR CITRUS TREAT!” He needed one more line, but it evaded him. "FRESH LEMONADE FEET!" was the best he could do.
Olive, the family dog, pranced around, barking her approval.
Later, Ollie counted the change in the jar he'd labeled "cash register."
"We made almost two dollars," he said, beaming.
An entire day gone for two dollars? Oliver pressed his eyelid. Elio poked him with a bony elbow. "Well, the lemonade stand may not have made much money that day, but Leo definitely launched a music career."
"That's the bright side, honey," Oliver said, kissing Elio on the side of the face with smiling, tired lips.
The End
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“Okay,” Ollie said, grabbing Elio’s phone. “We need to spread the word. Far and wide.”
Leo spread both arms and added, “Duper DUPER wide!”
“Our first target,” Ollie continued, “is Grandma Susan." She lived hours away, so it didn't get much wider than that. "I know she lives too far away to come buy lemonade, but she’ll appreciate the marketing. And maybe send stickers.”
Oliver was really getting into this. He opened the voice memo app on his phone with an almost child-like grin. “Alright, recording in three... two...”
Ollie cleared his throat dramatically while Leo spun and hummed in the background.
“Squeeze the day and don’t delay,
Lemonade dreams are just a sip away!
Made with care by two small guys—
We got sunshine, juice, and tiny bow ties!”
He'd taken some creative license with the bow ties, but it was for a good cause. (Ending childhood boredome!)
They ended with a group yell of, “LEMONADE!” and immediately hit send.
“I hope she likes it,” Ollie said.
“She’ll love it,” Oliver promised. “Even if she can’t taste it, she’ll taste it in her heart."
Somewhere far away, Grandma Susan blinked at her phone and smiled so wide it made her neighbors curious.
Mission: Accomplished.
The End
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Elio had just started to make peace with his fate—standing by the curb in a yellow T-shirt with a sticky note that read "I’m Lemonade"—when Ollie came sprinting out of the house holding Clover the parakeet in both hands.
“WAIT,” Ollie said breathlessly. “Your costume is not complete.”
“Should I be worried?” Elio asked, already worried.
Ollie gently placed Clover on Elio’s shoulder like he was christening a ship.
“I now pronounce you... Captain Lemonbeard: The Lemonade Pirate™!” he declared. Oliver snickered, but Leo gasped in admiration.
Clover, for his part, squawked once and fluffed up like he understood the assignment.
Elio stared into the distance. “I have a music degree,” he whispered.
“AYE AYE!” Ollie shouted. “Now guard the lemonade with your life... and your bird!”
Leo added, “TWEET!” and tossed a handful of goldfish crackers into the air like celebratory confetti.
A pair of teens biking by slowed down and gave the family a thumbs-up. The lady across the street actually bought a cup of lemonade.
"It worked," Ollie boasted. (He couldn't help himself.)
Elio stood tall, pirate bird on shoulder, lemonade in hand, and muttered with a grin,
“Fine. But if I’m the pirate, I get to name the ship.”
Ollie nodded. “What is it?”
Elio smiled. “The S.S. Zesty.”
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Ollie pointed dramatically across the sun-drenched pool deck, his towel flowing behind him like a cape.
“There it is,” he breathed, eyes shining with awe. “The Waterslide of Destiny. And it’s waiting for you, Daddy.”
Leo, standing nearby with his towel in his mouth and one floatie slightly deflated, gave a reverent nod. "Yes, fanks."
Oliver followed their gazes with a slow turn of the head, then adjusted his sunglasses with all the gravitas of a man facing his doom. “No,” he said flatly. “Absolutely not.”
“Come on,” Ollie begged, hands clasped in front of him like a cartoon sidekick. “Just once. For //science.”//
Elio, stretched out on a lounge chair like a sleepy lizard with a shaved ice in one hand, chimed in with mock seriousness. “It's for //science//, Oliver. We’ve never tested the aerodynamics of a giant on that slide. We’d be doing the pool community a service.”
Oliver ignored the “giant” part. He was used to it. “Sorry, honey,” he said. “I didn’t bring a flotation device... //for my dignity.// Besides, I’m fairly certain I’d fly off the end and knock over the lifeguard stand. And possibly a small child.”
“Sounds legendary,” Ollie whispered, dramatically shielding his eyes as he squinted toward the lifeguard stand.
Leo waddled over, dripping from the knees down, and took Oliver’s hand with both of his. He looked up at him with his very best lip-poke and whispered, “Peeeeeez, Daddy?”
Oliver groaned like he was being asked to walk the plank, but he was powerless against Leo's lip-poke. “You people are monsters,” he muttered, already unpeeling his shirt from his back.
Minutes later, he stood at the top of the slide looking like a man regretting not stretching before his// impending doom.//
Ollie waved his arms excitedly from the pool below. “You’ve got this, Daddy! Engage your core!” That's what the PE teacher said about every physical activity they did, so it was probably appropriate in this situation.
Elio raised his cup and called, “Try to rotate your arms on the way down so you look like a helicopter!”
Oliver took one deep breath, muttered “For science,” and shoved off.
That's when chaos ensued.
A whoosh, a yell, a screaming blur of Daddy energy, and then—
SPLASH. A mighty one.
Oliver surfaced, hair plastered to his face, goggles (which he hadn’t even been wearing) somehow now perched atop his head. He blinked water from his eyes, half-laughing, half-gasping. “I survived,” he panted.
Ollie bounced up and down and cheered like it was New Year’s Eve. “You did it! You’re a water hero!”
Leo jumped in place and flapped his arms like tiny wings. “’You do it!” he squealed, holding up both hands for a double high-five.
Elio walked over, leaned down, and kissed Oliver’s soaking-wet shoulder.
“The lifeguard stand remains unharmed,” he whispered, smiling.
Oliver gave him a slow, tired grin. “Physics is an unpredictable science.”
"Probably because they forgot to make it end in -ology," Ollie speculated.
They stood like that for a moment—just a damp, floppy little family with sunscreen in their eyes and love in their bones.
Then Leo climbed into Oliver’s lap, soaking him again, and Ollie began chanting, “Again, again, again!”
Oliver slicked his hair back. “Again? No way. Never again. Maybe. Probably. …We’ll see.”
What now?
[[Challenge Elio to a floaty race across the pool]]
[[Declare an official snack break and build a cracker tower on a towel]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Ollie popped up beside Elio like a mischievous pool sprite. “Floaty race,” he declared matter-of-factly. “Me versus you. No excuses.”
Elio, floating peacefully on a pool noodle like he had achieved inner peace, cracked one eye open. “You sure you want to challenge the reigning noodle champion of 1999?”
“Bring it,” Ollie giggled, already climbing onto a foam ring shaped like a donut. "Daddy, you and Leo can be the referees." Because there was one thing Ollie had learned over the years. Contests with his brother always required at //least// one referee.
Oliver and Leo took their positions as official race starter—standing at the pool’s edge. Oliver whispered some instructions to Leo, who then held one arm in the air yelling. “Red-set… GO!”
Close enough. They were off!
Ollie paddled furiously, kicking and flopping like a determined fish. Elio glided behind him in slow motion, dramatically humming a racing anthem under his breath.
Oliver offered commentary from poolside. “And in lane one, we have Pure Determination. In lane two, Midlife Crisis on a Noodle.”
It was close. It was silly. It ended in laughter, splashing, and Ollie declaring, “We both win!”
Elio ruffled his hair. “You’re a good sport, Floaty Champ.” Then, looking at Oliver with eyes almost impossibly narrow, "Mid-life crisis, huh??"
Fortunately Leo awarded them each with a soggy cracker and a kiss on the cheek before Oliver could dig the hole deeper.
THE END
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After all the splashing, sliding, and shouting, the family collapsed onto their towels like sleepy sea creatures.
“Snack break?” Ollie suggested, already digging into the cooler bag.
Leo plopped next to him and immediately began unwrapping cheese sticks with the focus, not needing to be told twice.
Oliver handed out juice boxes while Elio fluffed towels like they were nap thrones. “Everyone stay horizontal. That’s a rule now.”
But Ollie considered Elio's rules as something more like //guidelines//, and at the moment he had other plans. He took a handful of crackers and began stacking them with intense precision. “We are now building the Tower of Snacks. It must not fall.”
Leo helped by adding grapes. And then trying to eat them. And then adding more.
Oliver squinted at the leaning tower. “You may need structural glue." He passed over a jar of peanut butter.
That helped, but when the tower finally collapsed, Ollie declared it a delicious disaster, and they all munched and giggled until their towels were covered in crumbs and happiness.
Elio stretched his legs and sighed. “This might be the best pool trip ever.”
Ollie beamed. “Told you. I planned it all.”
Leo looked up with cracker dust on his nose. “I pan it all, too! I pan it alllll by myself!”
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Ollie stood proudly behind their makeshift auction table—a bright towel spread on the pool deck, piled high with soggy treasures.
“Alright, folks!” he announced, “Step right up and bid on the finest collection of pool relics this side of the neighborhood!”
Leo held up a pool noodle chunk with teeth impressions all over it and bellowed, “DAGGON MEAT!” Just like Ollie had shown him.
Passersby slowed, amused by the enthusiastic duo. A passing toddler pointed at the Barbie hand and giggled. An elderly lady chuckled and dropped a dollar in their jar for the “cursed quarter.” (Which Ollie hadn't been able to resist recovering, despite said curse.)
In the end, they sold, bartered, or traded every object they'd found, though most of their treasures couldn't be sold: the joy, the laughter, and the shared smiles.
Oliver packed their pool bag and smiled. “Not bad for a day of archaeological chaos.”
Leo grinned, reaching for the sunscreen bottle with both of his greedy little hands.
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Ollie took the lead as the official museum guide, gesturing dramatically to their treasures laid out on a towel inside the laundry room.
“Here we have the Ancient Crayon of Mystery, and over here, the Legendary Lost Flip-Flop of Atlantis.”
Leo perched nearby, handing out “tickets” he'd made from folded leaves.
The gift shop was a masterpiece of creativity: twigs tied with wet string and decorated with dandelion fluff, carefully arranged on a small tray.
Guests—the family’s pets, a few stuffed animals, and one //very// curious houseplant—were impressed beyond words.
Elio clapped quietly, proud of the boys’ inventive spirits.
Oliver said something like, “Best museum I’ve ever visited.”
Leo puffed out his chest, proud to be the official “door guard.”
Ollie just smiled, pleased as punch that he'd provided his family with the first boredom-free day they'd experienced in weeks.
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
The family gathered poolside, seated on towels and floaties, ready to tackle the Very Important Issue of the Cursed Quarter.
Ollie took notes on an old notebook with the solemnity of a detective solving a mystery.
“Step one,” he said, “Do not flip the coin.”
“Step two,” Elio added, “Wear protective goggles. Safety first.”
Oliver contributed, “Consider relocating the cursed artifact to the laundry room museum for further study.”
Leo nodded solemnly, holding the quarter like a fragile treasure. "I not like it," he said, but then changed his mind when he thought of the gumball machines at the grocery store. "I like it," he said as he slipped the quarter into his pocket.
After much debate, they agreed on a careful plan for dealing with cursed coins. Let's just say that the plan involved gloves, tongs, and a small, sacred box (an empty lemonade carton).
As the sun dipped lower, the cursed quarter was safely sealed away.
Elio sighed contentedly. “Crisis averted.”
Oliver touseled his sweet husband's hair, then kissed him just as playfully. “Teamwork makes the dream work.”
"That's what I've heard."
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
After a quick snack and a dramatic water break (plus very serious sunscreen reapplication from Oliver—forehead, cheeks, ears, and behind-the-knees, because Oliver never forgets behind-the-knees), the team transformed into an elite nature exploration squad.
Ollie scribbled names in a section of his notebook labeled in sparkly pen:
“OFFICIAL TEAM ROSTER.”
Elio was named Snack Supervisor (which he accepted with a bow and a granola bar).
Leo was promoted to Head of Discovery.
Oliver, sighing, was assigned the role of Leaf Carrier. “This feels targeted,” he muttered.
Together they scoured the shady edges of the park with absolute commitment.
They found:
Three shiny rocks
One slightly mysterious feather
A red plastic button shaped like a star
And one very squishy stick that Leo immediately adopted and would not let go of.
“Mine,” he whispered, hugging it like a teddy bear.
“Wild treasure,” Ollie confirmed, documenting it in the log. “Possibly magical. Definitely important.”
Elio and Ollie provided running commentary the entire time:
“This is a blue-winged leaf bug.”
“This is a red-winged rock.”
“This is... possibly a Cheeto.”
Ollie only nodded seriously and wrote “Cheeto?” in his snack notebook.
The foursome paused to observe an ant parade, held a quiet moment of respect for a dried-up worm (//Rest in love, little guy, //Ollie whispered), and pointed in awe at a squirrel with half a sandwich, whom they instantly declared Team Mascot.
By the time the sun was dipping low, they laid their findings on a towel like archeologists after a dig.
Leo plopped down in the middle of everything, curled up like a sleepy cat, his squishy stick tucked under one arm like it might escape.
Elio stretched his legs. Oliver leaned against him with a tired smile.
Ollie whispered, “Mission complete.”
Leo nodded, thumb in mouth.
Everyone agreed.
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Armed with the biggest sticks they could find (and one very stubby one Leo insisted was “magic”), the boys set to work scratching lines and swirls into the dirt like ancient cartographers. Elio and Oliver lounged on the grass, watching as their children invented a hidden kingdom beneath their sneakers.
“This one leads to the Dragon Slide,” Ollie explained, gesturing at a jagged line. “And this loop here means ‘beware of goose attacks.’”
Leo added a squiggle with flair. “Mine,” he said. No one knew what it meant, but everyone agreed it looked extremely important.
Elio leaned his head on Oliver’s shoulder. “I hope they always do this. Make up adventures. Build worlds together.”
Oliver gave his hand a quiet squeeze. “They will. Especially if we keep providing them with the important things in life, like good sticks.”
The final map included five treasure zones, a forbidden tree fort, and one mysterious X Leo stood on top of protectively.
“Must be important,” Elio whispered to his young brother.
Ollie grinned. “It is. We buried the cursed quarter here.”
They all agreed to let the map fade away in the breeze, just like all the best secrets do.
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
It began with Ollie’s most dangerous weapon: a plan.
“Daddy,” he sweetly sang, standing on a bench to add both height and,// hopefully//, authority, “I have a very important science proposal. Leo and I have invented something revolutionary. Groundbreaking. Possibly illegal in space.”
Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Is this about the towel?”
“It is,” Ollie said proudly. “We're calling it the Park Speed Launcher 5000.™ Leo’s ready for the first test run... but it only works if you race him.”
Leo nodded solemnly from the top of the hill, already clutching an old striped beach towel and looking like a tiny superhero preparing for launch. He flapped the corners of the towel and whispered, “Go fast.”
Oliver looked at Elio, who had clearly decided not to intervene. “You realize I’m too tall for this, right? I’ll end up in orbit.”
“Exactly,” Ollie beamed. “That’s what makes it science!”
With a long sigh and the deeply specific resignation of a man who had agreed to raise small chaos goblins, Oliver climbed to the top of the hill.
“Please don’t die,” Elio called from the bottom, both horrified and thoroughly entertained.
“I make no promises,” Oliver replied, crouching behind Leo like he was about to launch a watermelon at a carnival.
“GOOOOO!” Ollie shouted, waving a stick like it was the Olympic torch.
And down they went.
Sort of.
The towel instantly crumpled. Leo launched sideways with a squeal of joy. Oliver rolled once, got stuck, tried to scoot, then bumped down the rest of the hill making noises like, “Oof—ow—what was that—ow.”
By the time they reached the bottom in a tangled heap, Ollie was on his feet, fists in the air like he’d just won a gold medal.
“YOU ALMOST WENT LIGHTSPEED!” he shrieked. “YOU'RE A ROCKET DAD!”
Leo sat up, grass in his curls and a look of pure wonder on his face. “’We do again?” he whispered.
Oliver lay back, arms splayed out, a dandelion stuck to his forehead. “I think I’ve towel-sledded all I can handle.”
Elio knelt beside him, gently brushing leaves off his shirt. “Your still the coolest dad in the park.”
Oliver opened one eye. “You mean the sorest.”
They laughed, and Leo flopped beside them with a content sigh, wrapping the towel around his shoulders like a superhero cape.
Ollie stretched out next to them, arms behind his head. “This is the good kind of science,” he said softly.
Oliver nodded. “The kind that ends in grass stains.”
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
The construction team got to work immediately.
Ollie was head architect, carefully sculpting the outer towers with a borrowed plastic shovel. Elio handled the tiny landscaping, arranging leaves for trees and crafting a flagpole from a stick and a chewed straw wrapper. Leo shaped a lopsided mound and declared it “castle chair,” then stuck a cracker on top and nodded with pride.
Oliver, of course, was in charge of the snack moat—he poured out a ring of raisins and goldfish crackers like a moat filled with pirate treasure. “Functional and delicious,” he said with a nod.
They built tiny furniture from acorn tops and twigs, made a bug-sized “library” out of leaf scraps, and invited Mr. Wiggles to move in (he declined, but Leo left him a welcome snack anyway).
By the time the sun was starting to dip, their fortress looked like a magical outpost for any and all insect adventurers. Ollie drew a map in his notebook, just in case future explorers needed directions.
Elio stretched on the bench, tired and happy. Leo curled up in his lap, smelling like sunscreen and raisins. Oliver dusted sand off Ollie’s head and kissed the top of it, because sand or not, it ''needed'' a kiss.
“Best bug castle ever,” Ollie mumbled, and no one disagreed.
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]](enchant:?page,(text-colour:black)+(bg:white))
Ollie chose the first treasure: a slightly melted sticker shaped like a watermelon slice. He tucked it under a rock near the slide, dusted his hands like a professional, and turned to the group with dramatic flair.
“Your clue,” the eight-year-old announced, “is this: Search where the metal roars and the grass meets danger.”
Leo took two steps, flapped his arms once, and yelled, “SLIDE!” before sprinting in the wrong direction with his usual joyful chaos. Elio jogged after him, snickering.
Eventually, Leo doubled back and spotted the watermelon sticker. He crouched dramatically, picked it up with reverent fingers, and held it to the sky like he’d uncovered ancient treasure.
“I FIND IT,” he squealed.
“Next!” Ollie cried, already buzzing with excitement.
Elio took his turn. He knelt beside a patch of grass, tucked a single goldfish cracker under a napkin, and grinned. “Clue: Seek what is crunchy and orange and unreasonably powerful.”
Ollie and Leo locked eyes, nodded in unison, and pounced. They found the goldfish in seconds. Leo immediately popped it in his mouth, dusted his hands, and said, “I FIND IT.”
“Treasure has been consumed,” Elio noted. “Document that in your report, please.”
Then it was Leo’s turn.
He said nothing. Just picked up something from his pocket—a smooth pebble—and shuffled over to the nearest bench. He bent down, tucked it behind one leg, then stood up and pointed.
“Find it!” he beamed.
They all went full detective: crawling, peeking, whispering guesses, and pretending to scan for heat signatures. Five minutes later, Oliver triumphantly pulled a pebble from behind the bench.
It had a leaf stuck to it.
“You FIND it!”
By the end of the game, they’d found not just stickers and crackers and mystery pebbles—but lots of giggles, and that special kind of joy that comes from hiding something wonderful for someone you love to find.
They sat in the grass a while, enjoying a moment of rare, sleepy silence. Leo leaned on Elio’s arm. Ollie leaned into Oliver’s shoulder. And the breeze rustled the grass like a thank-you.
THE END
[[Start over!|Hard Choices]]