My youngest, Birk, kept asking me to go out to dinner at Pippi’s. Dumbfounded, I asked around about a new restaurant named, “Pippi’s.”
No one seemed to have heard of this fabulous, new restaurant, but they all wanted me to let them know where it was when I found it.
Months later, driving down the highway on vacation in Michigan, Birk shrieked, “Mom, there it is. There’s Pippi’s.”
I looked out the car window and there was Pippi, braids and all above the word “Wendy’s.”
Mombshells 