Shortly after I got married, I was invited out for a night "with the boys." I told the wife that I would be home by midnight... I Promise! Well, the yarns were being spun and the grog was going down easy, and at around 3am, drunk as a skunk, I went home. Just as I got in the door, the cuckoo clock started, and cuckooed 3 times. Quickly I realized she'd probably wake up, so I cuckooed another 9 times. I was really proud of myself for having the presence of mind-even when smashed-to escape a possible conflict. Next morning the wife asked me what time I got in and I told her 12 o'clock. Whew! Got away with that one! Then she told me that we needed a new cuckoo clock. When I asked why, she said, "Well, it cuckooed 3 times, said 'shit', cuckooed another 4 times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another 3 times, farted, then cuckooed twice more and started giggling.