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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 a.m., 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 totals 12
cuckoos =
MIDNIGHT!)
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in,
I told him 'MIDNIGHT'... he didn't seem angry 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 sh!#$.'
Cuckooed 4 more times,
cleared its throat,
cuckooed another three times,
giggled, cuckooed twice more,
and then tripped over the coffee table and farted.'
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