Dropped Zoe off for cremation. In honor of birds come and gone, here's a retelling of my favorite story about my landlady's younger daughter, K. Content warnings for religion and ovens, but it's pretty damn funny.

K, whom we lovingly called Kinkle, is an anesthesiologist with two beloved step-daughters, husband, and infant son. She qualified for the Olympics at a very young age and succeeds where others might bend and break. Amazing woman. She was dumb as rocks as a kid.

So dumb. (Which is a thing we can say now without being horrible because when puberty hit, she went from two brain cells to having an overstock, seemingly overnight.)

On Easter morning many years ago, eight-year old K woke up to find one of her parakeets had passed in the night. Because the house was full of cats, dogs, and an older sibling, her mom put the bird in the oven for safekeeping while they went to church for Easter.

K spent the next two hours listening to how JESUS AROSE. An idea began to form in her brain. She went home... and turned the oven on... so the parakeet could get warm again and stop being cold and dead.

OH NO, OH NO, OH NO NO NO NO NO

Landlady saw the oven on, thought her husband had turned it on to pre-heat for Easter supper and taken out the parakeet, so she didn't check inside... until they started to smell something.

The bird was smoking and they had to rip it out of the oven in its smoldering shoebox and into the sink.

Oh NO

N O

FELLOW K, NO!!!!!!!!

JSHSGAJ LMAO

oh no!

omg fdhsjfs

oh no

OH NO

i started CACKLING the moment i read the op, i think ive heard this one before

oh you poor dumb baby, kinkle

OH NOOOO