The other night I was invited out for a night with "the boys." I told my wife that I would be home by midnight. "I promise!"
Well, the hours passed and the Scotch went down way too easy.
Around 3 a.m., a bit blitzed, 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 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 (even when totally smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with her.
The next morning my wife asked me what time I got in, and I told her midnight. She didn't seem disturbed at all. (Whew! 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 3 times, then said, "Oh, shit," cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the cat and farted.
