Dear Old Man Who Bartered with My Cancer-Patient Daughter at the Community Yard Sale Fundraiser,
Thank you for attending the Alex’s Lemonade Stand community yard sale last Saturday. By “attending,” of course, I mean “looming over my ten-year-old daughter’s card table and haggling over the price of a sequined stuffed seal as if your Social Security payments depended on it.”
I imagine you saw the sign: ALL PROCEEDS DONATED TO CHARITY. The one my daughter painted with her one good hand while still hooked to a chemo pump like she’s the saddest science experiment ever.
Or maybe you noticed the giant cardboard cutout of her: bald head gleaming and feeding tube affixed to her nose like a fashion accessory from the Underworld’s spring/summer collection. The only thing better than having cancer is reminding the whole goddamn neighborhood about it with oversized props.


