The Tall Tale Teller 🥞

This week, we have a story about a kid who loved tall tales so much that he wishes his life were more like them! Paul Bunyan, Pecos Bill, Johnny Appleseed and every other hero from those stories are his idols. But he discovers that living in a larger than life world isn’t exactly what he imagined. Join us for an outsize adventure based on American tall tale folklore involving giant pancakes, rivers of syrup, rumbling tummies, and more!

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♪Foggy Oak Farm♪♪ Foggy Oak Farm ♪♪ Come on down to ♪♪Foggy Oak Farm♪- Hi friends. Welcome to Foggy Oak Fairy Tales. Each week, we'll bring you a new story. Some weeks, we'll share a story based on what's been happening on our real-life Foggy Oak Farm, where we have all sorts of animals and adventures. Other weeks, we'll use our imaginations and create new adventures together. I'm so glad you're here. This week, we have a story about a kid who loved tall tales so much that he wishes his life were more like them, but he discovers that living in a larger-than-life world isn't exactly what he imagined. Join us for an outsize adventure based on American tall tale folklore. Have you heard of tall tales? Lots of countries have them, and they have a particularly outsize part in the pun, place in American folklore. Tall tales are stories that feature larger than life heroes and heroines who have fantastical abilities. They're supposed to be funny and often blend events or people from history. Tall tales in the United States came about in the 1800s, and that's where you might recognize some of the most famous American tall tale heroes from. Maybe you've heard about Paul Bunyan, the gigantic and fearsomely strong lumberjack who could clear entire forests with a swing of his axe, and who was best friends with a humongous blue ox named babe. Or, maybe you've heard of Pacos Bill, who was a cowboy raised by coyotes who tamed tornadoes. These stories and many others were passed around and often told around campfires for entertainment, with each storyteller trying to outdo the last one. Paul Bunyan cleared an entire forest with a swing of his axe. Oh yeah, well his footprints formed the great lakes. Oh yeah, well it took a team of men working all day to cut a single hair of his beard. And so on and so on. Tall tales are really fun, but as we'll see, while it might be fun to tell tall tales, it isn't as much fun to actually live in one. Tim was obsessed with tall tales. He could imagine himself wrestling grizzly bears and using rattlesnakes as lassoes with Pacos Bill, helping to grease a gigantic frying pan by speeding around on it with patts of butter strapped to his feet, for frying up Paul Bunyan's breakfast, and so much more. He couldn't get enough of those stories. Sometimes he wished his life was more like the tall tales his parents would read him every night at bedtime when he asked for them. As he lay in bed one night, staring out his window at the stars and happily imagining himself in place of Johnny Apple seed, wandering the country, spreading forests of apple trees. He suddenly saw a shooting star streak past his window. Tim didn't necessarily put a lot of stock in shooting stars, but he figured there was no harm in making a wish anyway. You never knew, right? I wish my life was more like a tall tale, he murmured to the star. He fell asleep imagining what it would be like to be one of those larger than life heroes. When he woke up in the morning, he forgot all about the shooting star and his wish. Tim hopped out of bed, brushed his teeth, and bounded downstairs for breakfast. His dad was there, making oatmeal. Morning Tim! how'd you sleep? Ready for some oatmeal? His dad asked."Uh, geez, dad, oatmeal again. For once, couldn't we have a breakfast like Paul Bunyan?" breakfast like Paul Bunyan? What do you mean? A stack of pancakes taller than the house, the pile of bacon taller than you, and enough eggs to cover the entire driveway. His dad laughed. Yeah, that's exactly what I mean. Explain Tim. All we need is a giant griddle and a camp full a people that helped cook the breakfast. They both laughed, but their laughter was cut short when Tim's brother Jim came dashing down the stairs. Yelling."Dad mom, you will never believe what I saw inside. Look out the window!" Jim barreled into the kitchen waving his arms as he rushed past them and out the front door."What's gotten into him!" Tim asked."But when he wandered to the window to take a look outside, both Tim and his dad gasped at what they saw in the front yard. Where there was usually a concrete pad leading into the garage where they parked their cars, there was suddenly a gigantic griddle, which is like a large flat pan. There were several people skating around on it with what looked like sticks of butter strapped to their feet. Then the griddle was surrounded by tables and tables of people preparing food. Bacon was being separated into a huge pile going into a wheelbarrow. Batter was being mixed. Eggs were being cracked into a bowl that was probably as tall as Tim, as a man on a ladder held a gigantic whisk to stir the eggs. It was just like breakfast from Paul Bunyan's stories except it was here in real life. It was weird and amazing. Tim ran out to join his brother, Jim, and they both stared in wonder at the scene around them. I think we should go help. Tim said to his brother, "Let's go!" Jim replied, and they both dashed to the griddle to strap on the special butter shoes that would help grease it up and advance at the bacon and flapjacks. They skated onto the griddle along with the rest of the people who were twirling around already, preparing the giant pan. My parents both emerged out onto the porch."Hey, honey, did you park the cars in the garage by any chance last night?" His mom asked, "No!" His dad said trailing off and looking worried, just as Tim and Jim skated over what was usually the middle of the concrete pad. Everyone heard a faint honking noise coming from underneath the griddle."Oh, I'll call the office." Tim's mom sighed, "It's going to be a weird day." The cook, who everyone was referring to as "Flapjack Fran," began bellowing orders to the skaters to get off the griddle. It's time for pancakes! All the skaters move to the side and a team of ten people move forward carrying a gigantic scoop full of pancake batter, which they poured onto the grease-dub steaming griddle next to it. Someone was "forking about 30 pounds of bacon out of a wheelbarrow with a pitchfork." Tim and Jim's eyes just about jumped out of their heads. It smelled amazing."Well, I guess I need my flipper," "Lapjack Fran called out to the crowd. Where's our giant who can wield the spatula?" Everyone looked around awkwardly. In the story, Paul Bunyan might have come to flip the pancakes, but there was no sign of Paul Bunyan, and the flapjacks needed to be flipped. Or they would burn and be a flop. That gave Tim an idea."I want to be as tall and strong as Paul Bunyan," Tim murmured. And just as soon as he said it, he felt himself stretching and widening until he towered over the group. taller than the two-story house in half as wide."Allow me, Fran!" Tim found himself booming down at the cook. Everyone covered their ears, Tim hadn't realized quite how loud his voice was. Eight people team lifted the spatula off the ground bed to try to hand it to Tim. He bent down and grabs it in his hand, which was now the size of a small car. Tim managed to work the spatula under the pancake and flipped it. But his aim was off. Instead of falling nicely on the other side back onto the griddle, it landed on the roof of the house. Tim's parents who had been distracted by what was going on around them heard that gigantic thud onto the roof and looked back out at the scene going on in the front yard. Not only did they notice that gigantic pancake on the roof, they noticed Tim, who was two times taller than the house."Tim, what happened to you?" His dad cried out, "Don't worry dad, we're in a tall tail." Tim called down to him."I wish I could be as big and strong as Paul Bunyan and look at me. Let's have fun." At that point, the tall tail wish magic must have taken over because Tim's parents did seem to decide to have fun rather quickly. They all helped out with breakfast, which resulted in a stack of giant flapjacks taller than the house. The driveway covered in a river of scrambled eggs and a pile of bacon that would have needed five dump trucks to carry it all. There was a truly gigantic bat of syrup that Tim borrowed an empty swimming pool to scoop out and pour over the back of flapjacks. Once everything was ready, Tim managed to eat about 95% of it before he felt full. His family and the cook camp staff ate the rest. flapjacks fran announced it was time to clean up. And the camp got to work. Well Tim, since our cars are crushed under this griddle, why not you carry us to work? And you can take Jim on to school from there, his mom said. Everyone went to grab their stuff except Tim, whose backpack and lunchboxs now are the size of his fingernails. They all climbed into Tim's hands and took his parents to work and then took a few strides to get over to the school with Jim. When they got to school, both boys realized there was no chance of Tim fitting in the door. He left Jim at the entrance and took a little step over to his classroom window. He peered into the class and waved at his teacher. Jim jumped to bid in surprise and then shook her head."Well, Tim, I guess you'll just have to sit out there and listen to the lesson. We certainly don't have any books you'll be able to read." The day got started and Tim sat down. He did his best to listen, but he noticed that when he sat down, a deep depression formed around his body. Not much he could do about it. But he hoped the school had been wanting its own lake, because it looked like when he got up, that hole was going to turn into one at the first rain. But recess, all the kids begged Tim for rides and he turned into their own personal amusement park. Sitting on his hand and being lifted way into the air as Tim ran around was perhaps the biggest hit. Although Tim learned quickly that he could easily and accidentally run into Canada if you got going too fast and didn't pay attention and turn around and head back in time, lunch was complicated. The cook camp didn't magically appear at school and Tim was forced to rely on the cafeteria. Which did its best, but could only supply him with a hundred kids lunches. But even after he'd eaten all of those, his stomach was rumbling. And when his stomach really started rumbling, the ground and the school started shaking. Tim! His brother called from the outside lunch area, "You have to stop your belly from growing." Kids were giggling as the earth heaved around and like a mechanical bull. Tim was worried though. A hundred lunches wasn't enough to fill him up. How much did he need to eat now? He called a quick sorry to all the kids and teachers for the rolling ground and shaking school and took a few steps back home to see if the cook camp could help. Sorry, kid! Flapjack friends said to him, "We asked about lunch. I tried to yell after you when you headed off this morning and we had breakfast but we're plum out of food. Someone needs to go bring in what we need." Tim got even more worried when he heard Flapjack Fran's list. For just one day, one day alone, she needed 10,000 eggs, a thousand pounds of bacon, 500 pounds of butter, 400 gallons of syrup, and a ton, a literal ton of pancake mix. And apparently, that was all Flapjack friend made. Eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Tim had no idea how to gather that much food every day. His stomach rumbled again loudly. And this time, the roof shook itself clean off of their house. Fran looked at him expectantly as shingles from the roof ramed down on her. Tim may have loved tall tails, but he could see this was going to be an enormous problem. His stomach rumbled again. And this time the earth looked like everyone was being balanced on a giant trampoline. The flapjack Fran and the cook camp team were bouncing around, houses were jumping up and down with their roof slanting every which way. Cars jumped into trees, dogs and cats landed all the way up on clouds. And unfortunately, the one thing that had been left over from breakfast, the vat of syrup, tipped over. And a river of syrup started rushing right towards the school. Tim raced back to the school ahead of the river. Stomach still rumbling and quickly used his hands to dig a trench into the hole he'd made from sitting earlier. The syrup roared through the trench and right into the hole, which promptly filled up into a syrup lake. In the momentary calm after the syrup crisis, Tim looked around at the mess he'd made with just his rumbling stomach and decided that he greatly preferred reading tall tails to be in part of one. Just part of a day like this was more than enough. He looked at the sky, hoping his shooting star could hear him and wished. I wish things would go back to normal. Just then, his stomach rumbled so loud that the earth opened up underneath him and suddenly Tim was falling, falling through darkness until he woke up, normal sized in his bed with a thump. He sat, bolt upright, shocked. What? He mumbled rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining things. From downstairs, he heard his dad call. Tim, oatmeal's on for breakfast, come on down. Oatmeal had never sounded so good. The end. Remember, your part of the story, too. What did you think of this story? What did you imagine when you were listening? We'd love to hear your part of the story. If you and your grown-up want, you can share your thoughts or a picture you drew with our foggy oak podcast family. You might find it easiest to share with us on Facebook @foggy oak farm. But we have lots of options on our website, foggy oakfairytales.com. You can also check out pictures from the farm and learn more about us. Thanks for being part of the story, and I hope you'll join us next week.[MUSIC]