The other night I was invited out for a night with "the girls." I told my
husband that I would be home by midnight, "I promise."
Well, the hours passed and the margaritas went down way too easy. Around
3:00 a.m., a bit loaded, I headed for home. Just as I got in the door, the
cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed 3 times.
Quickly, realizing my husband would wake up, I cuckooed another 9 times. I
was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution,
in order to escape a possible conflict with him.
(Even when totally smashed.....3 cuckoos plus 9 cuckoos totals 12 cuckoos =
midnight.)
The next morning my husband asked my what time I got in and I told him
"midnight." He didn't seem upset at all. Whew! Got away with that one!
Then he said, "We need a new cuckoo clock." When I asked him why, he said,
"Well, last night our clock cuckooed 3 times, then said, "Oh shit",
cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times,
giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and
farted."
