(this is a real story! but not about me)
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 total 12
cuckoos
MIDNIGHT!)
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 4 more times, cleared it's throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then
tripped
over the coffee table and farted