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 totals 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 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 coffee
table and farted.