The Cuckoo

Just after I got married, I was invited out for a night with "the boys." I told the missus 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 three times. Quickly I realised she'd probably wake up, so I cuckooed another nine times. I was really proud of myself, having the quick wittedness -- even when pissed -- to escape a possible conflict.

Next morning, the missus asked me what time I got in and I told her 12 o'clock. Whew! Got away with that one! She then told me that we needed a new cuckoo clock. When I asked her why, she said: "Well, it cuckooed three times, said 'fuck it', cuckooed another four times, snickered, cuckooed another three times, cleared its throat, cuckooed twice and giggled. I think it's stuffed, don't you?"