In 2017, a Dairy Queen in Kewaskum, Wisconsin grabbed attention online with a message posted in its front window, causing quite a stir across the internet.
Some words or expressions, like ”Merry Christmas,” can stir up controversy, even when they seem harmless to some.
In a world filled with different beliefs and traditions, what feels like a simple greeting to one person might come across as exclusionary to another.
It’s that clash of perspectives that can turn a seemingly innocent phrase into a hot topic. Take, for example, a Dairy Queen in Wisconsin that made headlines with a bold sign on its window — sparking a heated debate online.
For years, a Dairy Queen in Kewaskum, Wisconsin, has proudly displayed a ”politically incorrect” sign on its window. While locals have long been familiar with it, back in 2017, an out-of-town customer took notice and set the internet on fire.
The store’s owner, Kevin Scheunemann, is the one who put up the sign, and he stands by its message.
“I felt the sign was appropriate to hang in terms of being transparent about the views of the owner and staff supporting God and country,” Scheunemann explained to WeAreGreenBay.com.
The sign in Kewaskum
So, what did the sign actually say?
It proudly declared the restaurant’s stance on “political incorrectness,” emphasizing holiday greetings like “Merry Christmas,” “Happy Easter,” and “God Bless America.” It also included the phrase “In God we trust” and offered free sundaes to veterans on Veteran’s Day.
According to the owner, he decided to put up the sign back in 2012, after a customer was upset by Christian music playing inside the restaurant.
“I just felt it was more appropriate to disclose these kinds of expressions,” Scheunemann continued. “It just seems that those kinds of values and principles are becoming controversial in society.”
Despite the occasional controversy, Scheunemann stands firm, willing to have a conversation with anyone who disagrees, but also proud of his values.
”Pretty tasteless”
But as mentioned, not everyone agreed with Scheunemann’s perspective. One customer from Oregon posted the sign on Dairy Queen’s national Facebook page in 2017, complaining about its exclusive nature.
This sparked a flood of negative comments, with people like Steve Thomas from Milwaukee saying, “I feel this is a pretty tasteless thing to have posted at one of your franchises. The part I disagree with is his use of the term ‘snowflake’… he’s alienating half the population by using that term.”
Thomas continued, “The other thing I don’t like is him belittling ‘safe spaces.’ Young adults need a safe place to talk when they’re struggling but won’t go because of the criticism they might receive. That’s why I disagree with this sign.”
Despite the backlash, many showed their support for Scheunemann, with some people even traveling long distances to snap a picture with the owner.
I just had to post this. Naturally, it was really busy tonight. This customer comes up to counter and says he has…Posted by Kevin Scheunemann on Saturday, June 30, 2018
In response to the controversy, Dairy Queen released a statement:
“American Dairy Queen Corporation does not encourage our independently owned and operated franchisees to post non-business related messages. This sign expresses the views of this independent owner only and does not speak for ADQ Corporation or other franchise owners. We expect our franchisees and employees to treat every customer with dignity and respect.”
New controversy
Then in 2020, the same Dairy Queen found itself at the center of another debate when a Donald Trump campaign sign, placed next to the restaurant’s parking lot, was nearly stolen.
CCTV footage showed two people trying to take the large Trump sign, but they couldn’t fit it into their car. Scheunemann, who posted about the incident on Facebook, even offered a $500 Dairy Queen gift card for information leading to the suspects’ arrest.
Love it or hate it, Dairy Queen’s politically charged sign has certainly sparked conversation over the years.
Whether you’re all for Scheunemann’s unapologetic stance or feel it crosses a line, it’s clear that his message has struck a chord with people from all walks of life. From heated debates on social media to those who travel miles just to snap a photo with the sign, it’s a reminder of how a single statement can ignite a much larger conversation.
So, what do you think? Does Scheunemann’s sign represent standing strong in your beliefs, or is it a step too far in today’s divided world?
My Mother-in-Law Moved in with Us After Her House Was Flooded – I Was Shocked When I Overheard Her True Reason for Staying
I blinked. Flooding? That didn’t sound right. She lived in a freshly renovated house, nothing but top-tier everything. I hadn’t heard a single complaint about it until now.
Before I could even begin to process, Joe appeared behind me. He looked guilty, eyes darting anywhere but at me. “Yeah… about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly shifting his weight. “Mom’s gonna stay with us for a bit. Just until the house gets fixed.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I asked, my glare piercing.
He shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s only for a little while, babe. You and Mom get along, right?”
Get along? If by “get along,” he meant the passive-aggressive remarks about how we’d been married for six years and still hadn’t given her any grandkids, then sure. We were best friends. But I plastered on a smile, the kind you give when you’re two seconds away from snapping. “Of course. I totally understand.”
Hours later, after I’d pretended everything was fine, I got up for some water. As I passed the kitchen, I heard them talking in hushed voices.
“You didn’t tell her the real reason, did you?” Jane’s voice was sharp, like a knife slicing through the night.
Joe sighed. “No, Mom. I didn’t.”
“Well,” Jane huffed, “I’m here to keep an eye on things. Married this long with no children… someone’s got to figure out what’s going on. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”
My stomach twisted. This wasn’t about pipes. She was here to snoop. To pressure me about kids. To “handle” me. I stood frozen in the hallway, blood boiling. What the hell had I just walked into?
The next morning, I woke up with a plan. If Jane wanted to play her little game, I’d play mine. But I wasn’t going to get into a battle of wits with her. No, I was going to kill her with kindness. By 8 a.m., I had already started phase one of my “operation.”
I cleared out our entire master bedroom. Every piece of clothing, every picture frame, every trace of Joe and me was stuffed into the tiny guest room. I even found Jane’s favorite floral bedspread from the back of the linen closet and spread it over the bed like I was preparing a five-star hotel suite.
When I was done, I stood in the doorway, surveying my work. The bedspread was pristine, her cat pictures were lined up on the dresser, and to top it off, I made a “Welcome to Your New Home” basket. Bath bombs, lavender-scented candles, fancy chocolates.
By the time Joe got home from work, I was already sitting in the cramped guest room, arranging our clothes into whatever space I could find. He walked in, his forehead creased with confusion. “Why are you in here?” He peeked around the corner. “Where’s our stuff?”
“Oh, I moved everything,” I said, turning to him with the sweetest smile I could muster. “Your mom deserves the master bedroom, don’t you think? It’s only fair. She needs the space more than we do.”
His eyes widened in disbelief. “You… gave her our bedroom?”
“Of course,” I said with a grin. “She’s family, after all. We’ll be just fine in here.”
Joe stood there, mouth half open, processing what I’d done. But what could he say? Jane was his mother, and I wasn’t technically doing anything wrong. He sighed and walked out of the room without another word.
For the next few days, I made sure Jane was living like royalty. Fresh towels every morning, little snacks placed on the nightstand, and those lavender candles I knew she loved.
She wandered around the house like she owned the place, smiling at me like she’d won. But while Jane was lounging in luxury, Joe was starting to crack. Sharing the guest room was driving him nuts. Not just the lack of space, but his mom’s new obsession with prepping him for fatherhood.
Every morning, without fail, she’d hand him a schedule of vitamins.
“You need to take these, Joe,” she’d say, thrusting a multivitamin at him. “It’s important to get your body ready if you want healthy kids.”
Joe would roll his eyes but take the pills just to keep her quiet.
It didn’t stop there. “Should you really be watching TV at night?” she’d ask over dinner. “That’s not very baby-friendly. You should be reading parenting books. Or exercising. And no more video games! You need to mature, Joe. Fatherhood is serious.”
By day four, I found Joe sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at a stack of parenting books his mom had ordered online.
“I think I’m losing it,” he muttered, holding up a book titled “What To Expect When You’re Expecting.” “She expects me to read this.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, Joe,” I said, suppressing a laugh, “you did say we’d be just fine, didn’t you?”
It was relentless. Jane had taken things up a notch. One evening, she handed Joe a neatly typed list of “fertility-boosting” foods. Kale, quinoa, grilled salmon—no more burgers, no more pizza. She smiled sweetly as if she was doing him the world’s greatest favor.
“Your future kids will thank you,” she chirped.
Joe stared at the list like it was a death sentence. “Wait, no pizza? Ever?”
“That’s right, dear,” she said, patting his shoulder. “I’ve planned all your meals for the week. You’ll feel so much better once you start eating clean.”
That night at dinner, we sat around the table eating dry salmon and tasteless kale. Jane watched Joe like a hawk, her eyes flicking from his plate to his face. He shifted uncomfortably, picking at his food.
“Joe,” she started, “did you take your vitamins this morning?”
He sighed, stabbing a fork into the kale. “Yeah, Mom. I took them.”
“And what about the gym? Did you make time for that? You know, you’ve put on a little weight. It’s important to be in shape if you want to be a good father.”
I couldn’t help it. I kicked him under the table to stop myself from bursting out laughing. He shot me a look, his expression torn between frustration and desperation. After days of this, it was finally getting to him.
Later that night, once Jane had gone to bed, Joe turned to me, rubbing his temples. His voice was low, almost pleading. “I can’t do this anymore, Tiana. The guest room, the vitamins, the baby talk… I’m going insane.”
I bit my lip, trying to suppress a smile. “You have to admit,” I said, failing to keep the amusement out of my voice, “it’s kind of funny.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s not funny.”
I let out a small laugh. “Okay, okay, it’s a little funny.”
Joe groaned and collapsed onto the bed. “I booked her a room at the hotel down the street. I can’t take another day of this.”
The next morning, he broke the news at breakfast.
“Mom, I’ve booked you a nice hotel nearby until the repairs at your house are done. You’ll be much more comfortable there.”
She blinked, clearly surprised. “But I’m perfectly fine here! And besides, isn’t it time you two got serious about giving me grandkids?”
Joe’s jaw clenched. “Mom, we’ll decide that when we’re ready. For now, the hotel is best for everyone.”
For a moment, Jane just stared at him. Then, realizing she had no leg to stand on, she reluctantly nodded. “Well… if you insist.”
By the end of the day, she was gone. The house was ours again.
As the door clicked shut behind her, Joe collapsed onto the couch with a dramatic sigh of relief. “Finally.”
I grinned, sinking down beside him. “So… kale for dinner?”
He groaned. “Never again.”
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