Picking up the tab
Note: The story below is one of many “Minnesota memories” from the twenty-some years I spent in the land of 10,000 lakes and a zillion mosquitoes.
My parents had just arrived at my house in east-central Minnesota after a five-hour trip. I’d spent the day teaching first graders. It was almost supper time. Rather than cook, we decided to eat at a local restaurant.
We enj...
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