Just after I got married, I was invited out for a night with the boys. I told the misses that I would be home by midnight... promise! Well, the yarns were being spun and the grog was going down easy, and at around 3 a.m. full as a boot, I went home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock started, and cuckooed 3 times. I realized she'd probably wake up, so I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself, considering my drunken state, to have escaped a possible conflict.

The next morning, the misses asked me what time I got in, so I told her 12 o'clock. Whew! Got away with that one! She then said that we needed a new cuckoo clock. When I asked her why, she explained, "Well, it cuckooed 3 times, said 'dang it,' cuckooed another 4 times, farted, cuckooed another 3 times, cleared its throat, cuckooed twice, then giggled."