The other night I was invited out for a night with
"the boys". I told my wife that I would be home by
midnight ... promise! Well, the hours passed and the
beer was going down way too easy. At around 2:30 am,
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.
The next morning my wife asked me what time I got in,
and I told her twelve 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, last night our clock
cuckooed three times, then said "oh wombles," cuckooed
4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3
times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then farted.
