The Cooper family had barely settled back into their routine when the phone calls started. John Cooper—four years old, an art prodigy, and now the talk of the Dallas art scene—had suddenly become a hot commodity.
One afternoon, while Mary was folding laundry, the phone rang. She picked it up, balancing the receiver between her shoulder and ear.
"Hello?"
A smooth voice responded. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Cooper. This is Langston Whitmore, an art dealer from Dallas. I attended the Chelsea competition and was absolutely blown away by your son's work."
Mary hesitated. Another one? Ever since John's win, offers had been pouring in—some legitimate, some absurd.
"Oh! Well, that's… very kind of you."
"I'd love to discuss exclusive representation for John," Whitmore continued. "There are buyers willing to pay upwards of $50,000 per painting—perhaps more if he continues producing at this level."
Mary nearly dropped the phone. F-Fifty thousand dollars?!
Georgie, who had been eavesdropping, nearly choked on his apple. "FIFTY THOUSAND?! THAT'S LIKE—A WHOLE HOUSE!"
John, who had been quietly reading nearby, looked up from his book. "Statistically speaking, it's actually just a down payment on a nice house, but yes."
Mary turned away from the boys and forced a polite laugh. "I think my husband and I need to talk this over. We're not really looking for—"
"Of course," Whitmore said smoothly. "But do consider it. Your son has a gift, Mrs. Cooper. It would be a shame to let it go unnoticed."
After hanging up, Mary turned to George Sr., who had just walked in. "A man just offered $50,000 per painting for John's work."
George stared at her, completely deadpan. Then, very slowly, he sat down at the kitchen table, rubbed his face, and muttered, "Jesus, I need a beer."
Meanwhile, John was already thinking beyond art.
Winning the competition and selling his paintings had given him capital, but he knew markets were volatile. He needed something sustainable—a business that could grow independently of his personal effort.
Hydroponics.
After reading about NASA experiments on soil-free farming, John had started designing an automated hydroponic system that could grow crops efficiently with minimal labor. But there was one problem.
"I need an investor," he muttered, tapping his pencil against his notebook.
Georgie, lounging dramatically on the couch, sat up. "Dude, you're four."
John adjusted his glasses. "Exactly. I have limited time to establish a financial foundation before society tries to box me into traditional education."
Georgie blinked. "I have no idea what you just said."
John sighed. "I need someone with money to back my ideas."
Georgie nodded. "Ah. Like when I convince Dad to buy me comic books?"
"...Sure. Let's go with that."
The next morning, the family sat at the breakfast table, listening to John lay out his plan.
"I want to start a hydroponic farm. If I secure funding now, I can establish a scalable system before I even turn ten."
Mary sipped her coffee, frowning. "Honey, don't you wanna be a kid for a little longer?"
John looked at her seriously. "If I make the right moves now, I'll be financially secure before middle school."
George Sr. raised an eyebrow. "Kid, when I was four, I was still eatin' dirt."
Georgie pointed his fork at him. "Pretty sure you still do sometimes."
George Sr. threw a biscuit at Georgie's head.
John, unfazed by the chaos, continued. "I don't need to sell more paintings immediately. But I do need to set up my first business venture while I have momentum."
George Sr. sighed. "Fine. What do you need?"
John smirked. "A trip to Dallas."
Three Days Later—Dallas
The Coopers sat across from Langston Whitmore in an upscale Dallas gallery. Whitmore, a well-dressed man in his late forties, was clearly someone who understood money when he saw it.
"So, John," Whitmore said, folding his hands. "I hear you're not just an artist—you're also an entrepreneur."
John nodded. "Correct. While my paintings are valuable now, I know that markets fluctuate. I need to diversify my investments."
Whitmore leaned forward, intrigued. "And what do you propose?"
John slid a blueprint across the table.
"An automated hydroponic farm—efficient, sustainable, and designed for year-round high-yield production."
Whitmore studied the plans, raising an impressed eyebrow. "This is… remarkably detailed."
Mary, still overwhelmed, smiled nervously. "That's John. He doesn't do things halfway."
"Tell me, John—why should I invest in this rather than your paintings?"
John smirked. "Because my paintings are a limited resource. I can only produce so many before the supply diminishes. But an automated farm? It runs indefinitely, generating a continuous revenue stream."
Whitmore laughed, shaking his head. "You're a four-year-old talking about long-term revenue streams."
John shrugged. "Intelligence doesn't have an age limit."
Whitmore leaned back in his chair. "Alright, kid. Let's say I'm interested. What do you need to get started?"
John pulled out a second sheet—a breakdown of costs, materials, and projected profits.
"An initial investment of $20,000 for supplies and land. I already have a design for a compact prototype."
Whitmore whistled. "You don't play around, do you?"
John simply smiled.
After a long pause, Whitmore extended his hand. "Alright, John. You've got yourself a deal."
John shook his hand firmly.
From the corner, Georgie whispered, "Dude, you just made a business deal in an art gallery. You're Batman."
John smirked. "I prefer Lex Luthor. But, sure."
As they drove back to Medford…
Mary sighed. "I can't believe we just signed a contract for our four-year-old."
George Sr. shook his head. "I feel like I should be worried, but… at this point, I'm just along for the ride."
Georgie patted John's shoulder. "Don't forget, little bro—I get 10% of the profits for moral support."
John side-eyed him. "You contribute nothing of value."
Georgie grinned. "Exactly. That's why I deserve a cut."
Mary sighed. "Lord help me."
John gazed out the window, already calculating his next move.
Maybe one day, he would surpass Jeff Bezos and even Elon Musk. He couldn't wait to grow older, but for now, he would focus on building his empire, step by step.