An elderly Scot lay dying in his bed ... when, suddenly - in the throes of impending death - his nostrils caught a whiff of the aroma of his favourite, pan-fried, drop scones wafting up the stairs.
Gathering his remaining strength, he hoisted himself from the bed ... leaning on the adjacent wall ... he slowly shuffled his way out of the bedroom and, gripping the bannister as firmly as his gnarled fingers would allow, crawled downstairs.
Was this Heaven? he wondered.
Or could it simply be one last gesture of love from his wife of sixty years?... seeing to it that he departed this earthly life,
a happy man?
Mustering one GREAT effort, he threw himself towards the kitchen table - landing on his kneesin rumpled posture. There ... spread out before his eyes
- like some sort of mirage - lay (what appeared to be) dozens upon dozens of his good lady's home-baked, mouth-watering .
delicacies.
Ouch! Reaching out a trembling hand, withered with age ... he instantly became painfully aware of it being whackedwith a wooden spoon his wife had been clutching ...
... "back-off",she croaked ... "those are for the funeral!"
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