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 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.
Posted on: Fri, 29 Nov 2013 01:01:30 +0000