I've been in negotiations with an eleven-year-old girl and we finally came to an agreement. She raises different breeds of rabbits to show and sell at the fair. Some time back, I learned from her father that she was running out of space for her bunnies. It so happens that some 20 years ago I bought an industrial 6-cage stacker on wheels. The plan at the time was to raise angora rabbits for fur to spin. The problem was that there was no way to keep bunnies cool in the heat of a Sacramento summer, so the plan was abandoned but the cages stayed on (remember, nothing gets thrown away). We actually moved this contraption up here, where it has been sitting unused, lo, these many years. I offered to give the cages free, but my friend refused, saying his daughter needed to know the value of things and that she would have to pay for the unit herself. I call that good parenting. A few weeks ago, I received a letter telling me of her interest. It was a dear letter on hand-decorated paper, ending with, "Thank you for thinking this over." I wrote back and quoted a very nominal fee for the cages "as is," but would give her a deal and knock down the price if she cleaned the stacker herself. She called, and we agreed on the lower number.
Yesterday her Papa came with his truck to pick up the cages. He said he was going to stop on the way home and use a power washer to clean them. "Whoops, that wasn't our deal!" "No, it's all good. She gave me a pocket full of quarters to pay for it." He laid out our agreed amount on the counter with her crumpled one-dollar bills. She stuck to the letter of our deal. It was a pleasure doing business.
It was a good day.