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 easy.
Around 3 a.m., a bit loaded, 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 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 totals 12 cuckoos = MIDNIGHT.
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him
"Midnight"!. He didn't seem pissed off at all. 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
tripped over the coffee table and farted."
No comments:
Post a Comment