I told my husband that I was going out with the girls, but would be home by midnight, “I promise.”
The hours sparkled and flew by along with numerous glasses of wine… fast.
So, a little before 2:00 a.m., I ubered home. Just as I opened the door, the grandfather clock in the hall cuckooed 2 times. I froze. My husband, a light sleeper, was a master at catching our kids sneaking in past curfew.
In a flash of brilliance, I cuckooed another 10 times!
A warm feeling of pride wash over me, I was a genius. I come up with a quick-witted solution and escaped a confrontation. (2 cuckoos plus 10 cuckoos = 12 cuckoos ~ Midnight!)
The next morning my husband asked me what time I got in, I told him “midnight.”
He didn’t give me that “look” or make a sarcastic response so I… exhaled… knowing I’d gotten away with it!
He took a sip of his coffee and sighed, “We need a new cuckoo clock.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, last night our clock cuckooed two times, then said ‘oh shit.’ Cuckooed 3 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 4 times, giggled, cuckooed 3 more times, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted.”
Yes, it’s a classic joke!