Chocolate Chip Cookies

Who doesn't like chocolate chip cookies? There isn't anything better. Lately, I've been on a chocolate chip cookie frenzy. If Lizzie doesn't have any lying around the house I'll cheat by tearing open the semi-sweet Toll House bag she tries to hide. When it comes to finding those little bell shaped treats I've got a nose like a bloodhound. Things have been getting even more serious for me. I've waited for her to hit the hay then I raid the freezer to snag the cookie dough. I sinned big time two nights ago by eating what I knew she was saving for the grandchildren so they could have their treats when they visited. The very last luscious lump of dough slid down the gullet and I said, "Oh oh, I'm cooked". "What to do", I thought? Then I remembered. Papa Murphy's Pizza store sells cookie dough so, the next morning, I jumped in the car and drove to the pizza shop and bought a container just in time to save a monster chewing out.

Then, tonight, I came across this story. It's funny, most especially if you enjoy CCC's the way I do:

An elderly man lay dying in his bed.

In death's agony, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs.

He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort forced himself down the stairs, gripping the railing with both hands. With labored breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen.

Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven. There, spread out upon newspapers on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite chocolate chip cookies.

Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted wife, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?

Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself toward the table, landing on his knees in a rumpled posture. His parched lips parted; the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth; seemingly bringing him back to life.

The aged and withered hand, shockingly made its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife.

"Stay out of the those", she said.

"They're for the funeral".