Just after I got married, I was invited out for a night with “the boys.” I told the misses that I would be home by midnight … promise!
Well, the hours passed and the beer was going down way too easy, at 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 I realised she’d probably wake up, so I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself, having a quick witty solution, even when smashed, to escape a possible conflict.
Next morning the wife asked me what time I got in and I told her 12 o’clock. She didn’t seem disturbed at all. Whew!
Got away with that one! She then told me that we needed a new cuckoo clock. When I asked her why, she said “Well, it cuckooed 3 times, said ‘oh fuck,’ cuckooed 4 more times, cleared it’s throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more and then farted.