Well, the hours passed by and the margaritas went down way too easily. Around 3am, a bit loaded, she headed for home.
Just as she got in the door, the cuckoo clock in the hallway started up and cuckooed three times. Quickly, realising her husband would probably wake up, she cuckooed another nine times.
She was really proud of herself for coming up with such a quick-witted solution in order to escape a possible conflict with him. (Even when totally smashed... 3 cuckoos + 9 cuckoos = 12 cuckoos… therefore midnight!)
The next morning her husband asked her what time she got in, she told him, “Midnight”.... He didn't seem pissed off in the least.
“Whew, I got away with that one!” she thought.
Then her husband said, “We need a new cuckoo clock my dear.”
When she asked him, “Why?” he said, “Well, last night our clock cuckooed three times, then said 'oh shit!' Cuckooed four more times, cleared its throat, cuckooed another three times, giggled a lot, cuckooed twice more, and then tripped over the coffee table and farted.”