A wife goes out for a night on the town with the girls,
telling her husband she’ll be home around midnight.
Midnight passes by, drinks are flowing, the girls are laughing and having a great time. At around 2:45 in the morning,
drunk as hell, she finally gets a cab and makes her way back home.
She gets to the front door and ever-so-gently nudges it open, not making a sound. She takes her shoes off, again not making a sound.
Knowing her husband will give her hell for coming home so late and drunk, she’s quite proud of herself for being so stealthy.
Just then, the cuckoo clock in the hallway goes off, cuckooing 3 times signalling the late hour. Realizing he might wake up, she decides to cuckoo another 9 times.
She smiles to herself, proud that she’d come up with such a clever solution on the spot. He’d never know the difference!
That next morning during breakfast the husband looked at his wife, who was obviously hungover, and asked, “So… what time did you get in last night?”
“Oh, right around midnight, just like I said,” she replied. The husband didn’t seem disturbed at all. Her plan had worked!
“Well,” he said, “I think we need a new cuckoo clock.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked.
“Because last night the one we have cuckooed 3 times, then said ‘oh shit,’ cuckooed 4 more times,
cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, giggled, then tripped over the coffee table and farted.”
I hate RED DWARF