An old man lay dying in his upstairs bedroom. Suddenly he smelled chocolate chip cookies baking. They were his all time favorite food so he forced himself out of the bed, staggered over to the wall holding on to the bed and furniture to the stairs. He held tightly to the stair rails as he stumbled down the stairs then, with immense effort, he finally walked the last few steps to the kitchen table and gasping with the effort he reached for a fresh, hot cookie only to have his hand severely rapped with a wooden spoon by his wife who told him "No, you can't have one. Those are for the get-together here after the funeral."