An Irish Tale

klong

An elderly Irishman lay dying in his bed. While suffering
the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the
aroma of his favourite 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, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled
downstairs. With laboured 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, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen
table were literally hundreds of his favourite chocolate chip
cookies.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from
his devoted Irish wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he
left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards
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 trembled on its
way to a cookie at the edge of the table, when it was
suddenly smacked with a spatula by his wife......
F*** off" she said, "they're for the funeral."

---

The Boss

Lump

LOL, I Love it


John