Subject: Girls Night Out
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 too 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 (even when smashed), in order to escape a possible
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 shit!", cuckooed 4 more times,
cleared it's throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed
twice more, and then farted!
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