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 easily.
Around 3am, a bit loaded, I headed for home. Just as I got in the
door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway 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, I told him 'MIDNIGHT'... he didn't seem pissed off in the least.
Whew, I 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 shit.' Cuckooed 4 more times, cleared
its throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more,
and then tripped over the coffee table and farted."
