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 (even when totally smashed), in order to escape a possible conflict with him.

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. Whew! 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 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more and then tripped over the coffee table and farted."Tag: drink Articles by The Riviera Woman Humour Home Contact