From the Inbox:
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. The aged and withered hand, shaking, 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 those," she said, "they're for your funeral."