Bob stumbled home late one night, very drunk, barely managing to kick off his shoes before collapsing into bed beside his sleeping wife. Within seconds, he was out cold.<\/p>\n
The next thing he knew, he was standing somewhere bright and quiet. Too quiet.<\/p>\n
In front of him stood a tall gate made of gold. Behind it, clouds. Harps. The whole deal.<\/p>\n
A man with a clipboard looked down at him and sighed gently.<\/p>\n
\u201cBob,\u201d the man said, \u201cI\u2019m afraid you died in your sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bob\u2019s eyes nearly popped out of his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cWHAT? No, no, no \u2014 that\u2019s not possible! I\u2019m not ready to die. I\u2019ve got plans! A job! A fantasy football league! You have to send me back!\u201d<\/p>\n
The man closed the clipboard. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Bob. There\u2019s only one way back.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bob leaned in. \u201cAnything. I\u2019ll do anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can return,\u201d the man said calmly, \u201cbut only as a chicken.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bob\u2019s jaw dropped.<\/p>\n
\u201cA\u2026 chicken?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThose are the rules.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bob thought about it. It wasn\u2019t ideal, but being alive as a chicken still sounded better than being dead.<\/p>\n
\u201cFine,\u201d Bob said. \u201cBut if I\u2019m going back, send me to a farm near my house. I don\u2019t want to end up in some factory.\u201d<\/p>\n
The man nodded.<\/p>\n
And suddenly \u2014 POOF.<\/p>\n
Bob felt strange. Very strange.<\/p>\n
He looked down and screamed\u2026 except it came out as a cluck.<\/p>\n
Feathers covered his body. Wings where his arms should be. He was standing in the dirt, pecking at the ground without meaning to.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh no,\u201d Bob muttered. \u201cOh no no no.\u201d<\/p>\n
A rooster strutted past, chest puffed out like he owned the place.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, well,\u201d the rooster said. \u201cYou must be the new hen. First day?\u201d<\/p>\n
Bob blinked. \u201cUh\u2026 yeah. I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow\u2019s it going so far?\u201d the rooster asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cHonestly?\u201d Bob said. \u201cNot terrible. But I\u2019ve got this weird feeling inside. Like pressure. Like I\u2019m going to explode or something.\u201d<\/p>\n
The rooster laughed. \u201cThat\u2019s just you ovulating.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m WHAT?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOvulating,\u201d the rooster repeated. \u201cDon\u2019t tell me you\u2019ve never laid an egg before.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course I haven\u2019t!\u201d Bob snapped. \u201cI was a man yesterday!\u201d<\/p>\n
The rooster shrugged. \u201cRelax. Happens to all of us. Just breathe and let it happen.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bob panicked. \u201cI don\u2019t think I\u2019m emotionally prepared for this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTrust me,\u201d the rooster said. \u201cIt\u2019s no big deal.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bob closed his eyes. He breathed. He relaxed.<\/p>\n
A few uncomfortable seconds later\u2026<\/p>\n
Pop.<\/p>\n
An egg dropped beneath him.<\/p>\n
Bob stared at it.<\/p>\n
His heart swelled.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy\u2026 my egg,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
He felt something he had never felt before. Pride. Accomplishment. A deep, overwhelming sense of purpose.<\/p>\n
\u201cI made that,\u201d Bob said, choking up.<\/p>\n
Before he could even process it, it happened again.<\/p>\n
Pop.<\/p>\n
Another egg.<\/p>\n
Bob was overcome with emotion.<\/p>\n
\u201cI get it now,\u201d he said softly. \u201cI finally understand motherhood. This is beautiful. This is miraculous.\u201d<\/p>\n
Tears filled his eyes.<\/p>\n
As he prepared to lay a third egg, suddenly\u2014<\/p>\n
SMACK.<\/p>\n
A sharp blow landed on the back of his head.<\/p>\n
Bob shot upright, eyes flying open.<\/p>\n
He was back in bed.<\/p>\n
His wife was standing over him, furious, hand raised.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor God\u2019s sake, Bob,\u201d she yelled, \u201cwake up! You\u2019re drunk, you\u2019re screaming, and you just CRAPPED THE BED!\u201d<\/p>\n
Bob froze.<\/p>\n
Then he looked down.<\/p>\n
Then he sighed.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026worth it.\u201d<\/p>\n
😄<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Bob stumbled home late one night, very drunk, barely managing to kick off his shoes before collapsing into bed beside his sleeping wife. Within seconds, he was out cold. The next thing he knew, he was standing somewhere bright and quiet. Too quiet. In front of him stood a tall gate made of gold. Behind … <\/p>\n