I was a weird kid. Instead of managing a lemonade stand, I sold radishes. I piled the first spring harvest into my sister's red wagon then wheeled it to the front sidewalk and added a cardboard sign advertising "Radishes 1¢." I didn't get many customers.
In the end my mother bought my entire crop. This actually worked out pretty well for me, as I am and always have been a radish fiend. I sat on the front stoop dipping the peppery red and white orbs into a dish of salt and all was right with my world.
NPR posted a fantastic ode to the radish earlier this week. I am not alone in my love, and I suspect a radish stand might do pretty swift business in this decade of farmers markets.