You need permission for a lemonade stand

Still think government is starving and stripped down because of revenue shortfalls? Still think this country's politicians have cut public programs to the marrow and directed precious tax dollars only to "essential services"?

Try selling that sob story to Riverside Park, N.Y., residents Richard and Clementine Lee.

On Saturday, Mr. Lee helped his 10-year-old daughter realize a yearlong entrepreneurial dream: opening a neighborhood lemonade stand.

"It was such a hot day, I figured people would want a cold drink," the girl said. She baked chocolate-chip cookies to diversify the menu, then set up shop on a corner outside a park, under her father's watch. In her first 20 minutes of business, she sold 10 glasses of lemonade at 50 cents apiece, and her inventory of cookies was cleared out.

A future taxpaying, job-creating small-business owner was being born before Mr. Lee's eyes.

Enter the Regulatory State. City parks department agents began circling the stand like vultures.

"They approached us nonchalantly but then surrounded us," Mr. Lee said. "They were very hostile, saying, 'Where's your permit? Where's your permit?' "

Despite the protests of customers and passers-by, young Clementine was handed a $50 citation for selling food without a license. Needless to say, after watching her small profit erased by a crushing tax she couldn't afford, the girl did what so many other businesses have done in this recession: she closed.

"Don't these agents have anything better to do? There are better ways to raise money for the Parks Department than busting 10-year-olds," her father said.

Fortunately, Parks Commissioner Adrian Benepe agreed and dismissed the citation, saying the three -- three! -- agents who responded "used extremely poor judgment."

Unfortunately, this story can't be dismissed as an irregularity. All across the country, every month without fail, government busybodies crack down on young upstarts and helpful, unregulated commerce.

One of the most outrageous cases played out a few years ago in Tempe, Ariz., where local teen Christian Alf made spending money by battling neighborhood roof rats. For $30, he would cover roof openings, such as vents and pipes, with mesh wire to keep the rodents out of attics. Most of his clients were elderly residents, physically unable to safely do the job themselves.

A day after his ingenuity and good work were highlighted by a local newspaper, an agent with the Arizona Structrual Pest Control Commission was on his doorstep ordering him to shut down for -- you guessed it -- performing unlicensed pest control. His mother was intimidated into signing a statement that her son would cease operations.

Intervention by the Institute for Justice unleashed a media firestorm, and subsequent public outrcy forced the commission to reverse course and admit the obvious: Christian was doing handyman work, not spraying chemicals or setting traps that could cause public harm.

Some of these regulators exist only to protect larger businesses from competition. Others are so consumed by their own authority that they believe every consumer transaction, no matter how small or informal, must have the blessing of government.

Either way, our public servants are increasingly becoming our masters.

And the more of your money they take, the worse it gets.