Bigfoot Pie Thief
A 12-year-old boy finishing lunch at his grandparents’ farm watched in shock as a furry hand reached through the open kitchen window and snatched one of Grandma’s freshly baked apple pies from the sill. Grandma charged in swinging her hickory switch like a sword, cracking the knuckles of the thief and sending both hand and pie flying out the window. Racing to look outside, the boy saw a six-foot-tall, hairy creature sprinting toward the woods with the pie in its grip, grunting and laughing the whole way. Grandpa arrived just in time to see it vanish into the trees, then calmly sat the boy down on the porch and explained that the creature was a “Booger”—one of a small family living several miles over the ridge. The young male thief had been bold enough to test Grandma’s cooking before, but the clan generally kept its distance and meant no real harm. Over the years the now-57-year-old narrator had many more encounters with the Boogers, some face-to-face, yet he always remembered Grandpa’s advice: lower any weapon, raise empty hands, smile, and back away slowly. Treating them with the same respect given to any wild predator—giving them room and never crowding them—kept every meeting peaceful. The creatures sometimes passed through at night or watched from the woods, but they could also be surprisingly considerate; the morning after the pie theft, six fresh apples appeared on Grandma’s windowsill as repayment. The narrator lives with the firm knowledge that these beings exist, neither crazy nor delusional, and believes people and Boogers can coexist just fine if both sides show a little courtesy.

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