Fred was very old, sick, and doctors said he would not l and dying.
There was an elderly man at home in his bed, dying.
He smelled the aroma of his favorite chocolate chip cookies baking in the kitchen downstairs, and he wanted one last cookie before he died.
His life fading, he made his way down the stairs and crawled into the kitchen where his wife was busily baking cookies. With his last remaining strength, he crawled to the table and was just barely able to lift his withered arm to the cookie sheet.
As he grasped a warm, moist chocolate chip cookie, his favorite kind, his wife suddenly whacked his hand with a spatula. Gasping for breath, he asked her,
“Why did you do that?”
“Those are for the funeral.”