Asleep on a Stranger’s Driveway, Sleeping on a Pile of Hoses—That’s How We Found Him
We got the call early in the morning. Our 15-year-old son, Micah, had been found asleep—and not just casually napping but passed out, sprawled across a pile of hoses, on a stranger’s driveway.
It sounds dramatic, and in many ways, it was. But this moment didn’t come out of nowhere. It came from courage. From choices. From the kind of ambition most of us talk about, but few actually live.
The Idea Takes Shape
This summer, Micah decided he didn’t want to wait. He wanted something more than just a regular break; he wanted to build. He had saved about $500 from birthdays, mowing lawns, odd jobs. Money in his pocket. A spark in his chest. He bought a power washer.
He said, “I want to work this summer. I want people to pay me for what I do, not what I imagine.” He couldn’t drive yet, so logistics were one of his first challenges. But he figured it out: we, the family, offered to pick him up and drop him, or help with transportation as needed.
Learning the Ropes: Doors, Rejections, and Hoses
Saturday mornings became Micah’s ‘hustle test.’ He planned to knock on door after door, face “no”s, and find the “yes”es that paid off. Initially, it was awkward. Some people ignored him, some shut the door quickly. Some said they already had someone else. Lots said, “No thanks, we don’t need it.”

Monday through Friday, he began picking up one to two jobs each day. He built a simple spreadsheet to track what he earned, what the supplies cost, how long each job took. He kept a journal—writing down every reason someone gave for refusing. “Too expensive,” “Not interested,” “We already have someone.” At night, he and we would talk about these objections: what someone could say, how to respond without sounding salesy, how to stay firm in service rather than in mere persuasion.
Integrity Over Quick Wins
One of the biggest lessons he absorbed early on: selling isn’t just about closing the deal—it’s about service. Doing good work, even if nobody is watching. Being honest about what the washer can do; being upfront if certain stains won’t come off. Because, he told us, he wants people to feel like they got their money’s worth—even more.
He memorized ways to respond to objections—not to pressure someone into saying yes, but to provide information, clarity. If someone said “too much,” maybe he could show them what the results would be, why the price reflects time, cost of equipment, effort. If someone said “we’re fine,” maybe a quick demo or photo before-after could help them see the difference.
The Hose-Pile Moment
And then came the day that whiplashed us into reality. One afternoon, Micah stayed out so late, cleaning, doing jobs, packing up hoses and equipment, that exhaustion finally caught up. He hadn’t yet made it home. He found a spot, on a driveway that wasn’t his. He laid down across a pile of hoses. He fell asleep.
We found him there. In that moment, it looked raw. Hard. Ridiculous, even. But it was beautiful too—because it was the proof. He didn’t quit at “too tired,” he didn’t ditch when the heat chased him off. He kept going until he couldn’t. That makes all the difference.
Why “Sleep on the Hoses” Matters
So many people have ideas. So many talk about starting something. So many plan. And then something gets difficult: early hours, sweaty work, people turning them down. Most people stop. They embrace the comfort of expectation rather than the discomfort of building.
What Micah did is simple—but so rare: he chose action. One full day. Then another. Then a whole summer. He chose to show up when discouraged. To push when worn down. To turn “no” after “no” into fuel instead of finality.