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 3 times. Quickly, realizing my husband would probably 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 me what time I got in, and I told him
"Midnight"! He didn't seem mad at all. 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 three
times, then said, "Oh sh#@.", 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."
