A man who had been hopelessly ill for quite some time was lying on his death bed when the wonderful aroma from a batch of his wife's freshly baked Chocolate Chip Cookies reached his nostrils.

Chocolate Chip Cookies, you must know, were his favorite thing on earth.  After savoring the delicious odor for a few more moments, he decided that he must have just one last cookie.

Summoning all of his remaining strength, he rolled his frail body out of bed and flopped to the floor like a fish.  As he crawled to the doorway and rolled himself out into the hall, the smell grew ever stronger.  Somehow he made it to the top of the stairs and slid his feet over the edge of the first step.  He banged and bumped his way to the landing far below.

The poor wretch desperately inched his way closer and closer to the kitchen and the aroma became more enticing with each passing moment.  The cookies were cooling on the kitchen table and he struggled to pull himself himself up one of the table legs, his outstretched hand just inches from his tasty goal.

The power of anticipation produced an almost narcotic effect that had carried his broken body this far, and he was not to be denied!  Using the last of his energy, he made a final reach toward the cookies.

Suddenly, his wife noticed what was happening and lunged forward, whisking the sheet of cookies away.

"Tisk, tisk!" she scolded, "I'm quite sorry, but these cookies are for AFTER the funeral !!! "

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