A Night Out With the Girls

The other night I was invited out for a night with the girls. I promised
my husband that I would be home by midnight. 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 (even when totally
smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him. 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 shit," cuckooed
four more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another three times,
giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and
farted."