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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 champagne was going down way to easy. Around 3 a.m., drunk as a skunk, 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 he'd probably wake up, I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution especially
since I was smashed, in order to avoid a conflict with him.

The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him 12 o'clock. He didn't seem
disturbed 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 crap!",
cuckooed 4 more times, cleared it's throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then farted."