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 margaritas went down way too easily.
Around 3 am, a bit loaded, I headed for home.

Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway started up
and cuckooed 3 times.

Quickly, realizing my husband would probably wake up, I cuckooed
another 9 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.

(Even when totally smashed... 3 cuckoos plus 9 cuckoos total 12
cuckoos = MIDNIGHT!).

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 'We need a new cuckoo clock!'

When I asked him why, he said, 'Well, last night our clock cuckooed
three times, then said 'oh ****', cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its
throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more,
and then tripped over the coffee table and farted."