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 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 shit.' Cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its
throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, and then
tripped over the coffee table and farted.
One woman's journey off the highway onto the straight and narrow
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