As told from the viewpoint of the woman of course:




The other night I was invited out for a night with "the girls", and 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 that my husband might just hear that, I cuckooed another 9 times.

I was really proud of myself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution (even when totally smashed), in order to escape a possible run-in with him.

The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, and I told him "Midnight". He didn't seem suspicious at all. Whew! Got away with that one!

Then he said, "We need a new cuckoo clock."

Oops!

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 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more, tripped over the coffee table, and farted."