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=MIDNITE.)
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told
him "Midnight." He didn't seem pissed off 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 *****" 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."