Bob came home one night after a few too many drinks. He stumbled into bed beside his wife, muttered a sleepy goodnight, and passed out instantly. But instead of waking to the morning sun, he found himself standing before the Pearly Gates. St. Peter looked down at him and said, “Bob, you died in your sleep.” Bob’s jaw dropped. “Dead? No! I’ve got too much to live for! Please, send me back!” St. Peter shook his head. “There’s only one way—you can return, but only as a chicken.” Bob begged to be sent to a farm near his home. The next moment, he was covered in feathers, clucking and pecking at the ground. A rooster wandered over. “So, you’re the new hen? How’s your first day?” Bob felt a strange stirring inside. “I… feel like something’s about to happen.” “You’re ovulating,” said the rooster. “Relax—it’s natural.”

And then it happened. Bob laid his first egg, and the overwhelming joy of creating life surged through him. He laid another, marveling at the miracle of motherhood, feeling pride and purpose he’d never imagined. Just as he was about to lay a third, a sharp smack jolted him awake. His wife’s voice cut through groggy confusion: “BOB! You… uh… need new sheets!” Bob laughed, realizing that even in the most ridiculous moments, life teaches lessons about joy, humility, and appreciating the little things—even if it’s just getting out of bed alive.