Sunday, July 17, 2011

Paul Bunyan and Jesse's yellow foot

Deep in the heart of Wisconsin there is a place called Paul Bunyan's pancake house. It's a monster of a building, just like the man. A log cabin that seems like it stretches forever. Inside of the building is a picnic table that runs the whole length. It is here where you sit. It is here where you eat. It is here where you eat like a logger from the bygone days. It was also here that my brother's foot turned yellow.

We had pulled up to Paul Bunyan's with logger appetites. We were so hungry. We were very accustomed to eating pancakes. When I was a kid, my dad would make pancakes for us in the morning. He would top off your plate with 3 of them and when you weren't looking, he would add three more. I never could tell how many pancakes I ate when he cooked, I just simply lost count. My brother and I were so hungry when we got there that we didn't hear dad tell us to watch the yellow lines. That's not logger talk, if your wondering. They were painting the yellow lines in the parking lot.

When you walked into the building, there was wood everywhere. Wood walls, wood counters, wood ceilings and wood floors. Beautiful coated wood floors. You could see your face in them. We were greeted by the hostess at the end of the gift shop and we soon found ourselves seated at the long picnic table, eating to our hearts content.

Afterwards, we started roaming through the gift shop, looking to bring some key chain or postcard back from our trip and we came across 4 waiters and waitresses scraping the floor. My dad laughed and said "oops, someone stepped on the yellow line" It was after about 5 minutes that my brother came over to me and whispered into my ear "we need to get out of here and we need to go now" I looked at him like he was crazy, then he lifted his shoe. We slowly walked over to my dad and told him we had to leave. He didn't buy a postcard.

1 comment:

  1. This never gets old. And that is good, since I will probably hear it a million more times:)