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 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 three times. Quickly, realizing my husband would probably wake up, I "cuckooed" an additional nine times. I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when totally smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him.
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him "Midnight."
He didn't seem irritated at all.
Whew! Got away with that one!
Then he said, "We need a new cuckoo clock."
I asked him why, and he replied, "Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said, "Oh sh't.", cuckooed 4 more times, cleared it's throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted."
