Fi- nally, that afternoon, a bolt ofJjghtning camejhrough our heads. It was an idea Mike had gotten from a science book heTiad read. Excitedly, we shook hands, and the partner- ship now had a business. For the next several weeks, Mike and I ran around our neighborhood, knocking on doors and asking our neigh- bors if they would save their toothpaste tubes for us. With puzzled looks, most adults consented with a smile. Some asked us what we were doing. To which we replied, "We can't tell you. It's a business secret." My mom grew distressed as the weeks wore on. We had selected a site next to her washing machine as the place we would stockpile our raw materials. In a brown card- board box that one time held catsup bottles, our little pile of used toothpaste tubes began to grow. Finally my mom put her foot down. The sight of her neighbors' messy, crumpled used toothpaste tubes had gotten to her. "What are you boys doing?" she asked. "And I don't want to hear again that it's a business secret. Do something with this mess or I'm going to throw it out." Mike and I pleaded and begged, explaining that we would soon have enough and then we would begin pro- duction. We informed her that we were waiting on a cou- ple of neighbors to finish using up their toothpaste so we could have their tubes. Mom granted us a one-week ex- tension. 32 Rich Dad, Poor Dad The date to begin production was moved up. The pres- sure was on. My first partnership was already being threat- ened with an eviction notice from our warehouse space by my own mom. It became Mike's job to tell the neighbors to quickly use up their toothpaste, saying their dentist wanted them to brush more often anyway. I began to put together the production line. One day my dad drove up with a friend to see two 9- year-old boys in the driveway with a production line op- erating at full speed. There was fine white powder everywhere. On a long table were small milk cartons from school, and our family's hibachi grill was glowing with red hot coals at maximum heat. Dad walked up cautiously, having to park the car at the base of the driveway, since the production line blocked the carport. As he and his friend got closer, they saw a steel pot sitting on top of the coals, with the toothpaste tubes being melted down. In those days, toothpaste did not come in plastic tubes. The tubes were made of lead. So once the paint was burned off, the tubes were dropped in the small steel pot, melted until they became liquid, and with my mom's pot holders we were pouring the lead through a small hole in the top of the milk cartons. The milk cartons were filled with plaster-of-paris. The white powder everywhere was the plaster before we mixed it with water. In my haste, I had knocked the bag over, and the entire area look like it had been hit by a snowstorm. The milk cartons were the outer containers for plaster-of-paris molds.