Kevin lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death,
he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite scones wafting up the
stairs.He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the
bed. Leaning on 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 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, for there, spread out upon the
kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favorite scones.Was it heaven?
Or was it one final act of love from his devoted Scottish wife Ena 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
rumpled posture His aged and withered hand trembled towards a scone at the
edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by Ena with a wooden spoon
.......'Bugger off' she said, 'they're for the funeral.'*
OUCH.
:lol: :lol: :lol: :lol: :lol:
Funny😌😊😊
That is funny--and so cold!
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