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 3 a.m., 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 didnt seem p***d 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 sh*t. Cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted.
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