![[Hardeep]](https://www.unp.me/data/avatars/m/25/25527.jpg?1570213921){kind=avatar}
[Hardeep]
VIP
The old tribal chairman was on his death bed. He had only hours to live when he suddenly smelled the scent of fry-bread wafting into his room. Aaahhhh. . . He loved fry-bread more than anything else in the world.
With his last bit of energy, he pulled himself out of bed. . . Down the stairs and into the kitchen he went. There was his beloved wife, Lillian, kneading the dough for a new batch. As he reached for one of the fresh steaming fry-breads, he got smacked across the back of his hand by the wooden spoon his wife was holding. “Leave them alone!” she said. “They’re for the funeral!”
With his last bit of energy, he pulled himself out of bed. . . Down the stairs and into the kitchen he went. There was his beloved wife, Lillian, kneading the dough for a new batch. As he reached for one of the fresh steaming fry-breads, he got smacked across the back of his hand by the wooden spoon his wife was holding. “Leave them alone!” she said. “They’re for the funeral!”
