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 am, 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 + 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. 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 three times, then said, 'oh, crap', cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted.'
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