When my youngest son was three years old, one of his finches died. It was winter so we couldn’t bury the bird, so I flushed it down the toilet. I didn’t realize that he had seen me do this until I heard him crying behind me. Trying to make him feel better, I told him that his bird was with God now.
He stopped crying, looked at me a bit bewildered, and asked, “God is in the toilet?”