The other night I was invited out for a night with the ‘guys.’ I told my wife that I would be home by midnight, ‘I promise!’
Well, the hours passed and the beers 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 the wife 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 her.
(Even when drunk as a skunk…. 3 cuckoos plus 9 cuckoos totals = 12 cuckoos = MIDNIGHT!)
The next morning my wife asked me what time I got in, I told her ‘MIDNIGHT’. She didn’t seem pissed off in the least. Whew, I got away with that one!
Then she said ‘We need a new cuckoo clock.’
When I asked her why, she 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.
