Funeral Preparations

The elderly gentleman lay dying in his bed, when suddenly all thoughts of his passing were pushed aside by the wonderful aroma of his favorite home-made chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs. With his last remaining strength, he struggled out of bed, and leaning against the wall, slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with intense concentration, got down the stairs by gripping the rail with both hands. With labored breath, he leaned against the door frame, gazing wide-eyed into the kitchen.
On the table were literally hundreds of his favorite chocolate chip cookies! Was this heaven? Or was it one final act of devotion from his wife, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man? Mustering one final effort, he threw himself toward the table, landing on his knees in a rumpled posture, one hand on the edge of the table. His aged and withered hand quiveringly made its way to a cookie near the edge of the table; feeling the warm, soft dough actually made the pain of his bones subside for a moment. His parched lips parted; the wondrous taste of the cookie was already in his mouth, seemingly bringing him back to life.
What, then, was this sudden stinging that caused his hand to recoil? The man looked to see his wife, still holding the spatula she had just used to smack his hand. "Stay out of those!" she said. "They're for the funeral!"