The other night I was invited out for a night with the girls. I told my husband that I would be home by midnight. Well, the hours passed and the margaritas went down way too easily. Around 3AM, a bit loaded, I headed home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway started up and 'cuckooed' three times. Quickly, realizing my husband would probably wake up, I 'cuckooed' another NINE 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. The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, I told him, "Midnight."
He didn't seem pissed off in the least. Whew, I got away with that one!
Then he said, "But we need a new clock." When I asked him why, he said, "Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said, 'uh-oh' Cuckooed four more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted."