After a long week at work, my friends and I thought we needed a girls night out. So, Friday after work, we planned a night just for the girls. I told my husband that I would be home by midnight... "promise!"
Well, the hours passed quickly and the margaritas were was going down way too easy. About 3am, we called an Uber to drop us all off at our homes as we were all too tipsy to drive ourselves.
Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hall started up and cuckooed three times. Quickly, I realized he'd probably wake up, so I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself for having such a rapid, witty solution, even after that many margaritas, to escape a possible conflict.
The next morning my husband, with his coffee cup by his hand and the newspaper in front of his face at the kitchen table, asked me what time I got in. I told him 12 o'clock. He didn't seem disturbed at all, never looked up from his paper. I was smiling inside thinking, “Got away with that one!”
Without looking past the paper, he told me we needed a new cuckoo clock. When I asked why, he said, “Well, last night it cuckooed 3 times, then said, “oh shit’ as knocked the lamp off the coffee table, cuckooed 4 more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, cuckooed twice more.... then farted.” And then he moved the paper aside to look at me, smiled, and said, “I love you dear! Hope you had a nice night!”
Peace of the Lord be with you.
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