Perched on a wall in my living room rests a cuckoo clock that has two windows — one for the cuckoo, which comes out every half hour, and one for a little German man to yodel, “Edelweiss.” After two months of this constant chatter, it became necessary to silence the bird and obnoxious man by latching their windows. There’s nothing fun about rolling over in the middle of the night to hear what sounds like a Swiss Miss commercial.

However, 3-year-old Evan (who lives upstairs) absolutely loved the clock. Every day he would come down from his mom’s apartment, and I’d lift him up to watch the cuckoo and man put on their 20- second show. His eyes wouldn’t blink the entire time.

“Do it again!” he’d shout.

After three of these performances, it became necessary to tell him the cuckoo was tired and the man had to go shopping and wouldn’t be home until later. Day after day, Evan would wait for my car to pull into the driveway, then come knocking on my door.

“Is the cuckoo tired today?” he’d ask.

“Well, let’s take a look and see.” We’d go through the same routine time and time again. I’d set up the window and move the hands to the half hour, where only the cuckoo came out for one “cuckoo” and the door would slam shut.

Evan would look at me and cry, “I want to see the little man on the chair.” We’d move the hands forward to make sure the time was around 11 or 12 so he could hear lots of cuckoos, and then the man would come out and sing.

One day the clock wouldn’t keep time for more than five minutes. I had tried everything from leveling the clock to taking it to a friend who put it on his wall for a few days. “It works fine for me,” he said. The cuckoo and the little man seemed very happy there and never ran out of gas. But when I brought the clock home and stuck it on the same wall, nothing happened.

Whenever Evan came down, I would have to tell him the cuckoo was tired. He was very sympathetic. “Let’s let him sleep for awhile,” he would say and then slowly walk upstairs.

More than a year had passed since Evan had seen the magic show.

The other day, he was in the back yard playing with his brother. Out of the clear blue, Evan asked me, “How does the cuckoo feel today?”

“I’m not sure. He hasn’t seen you in so long and I think he feels lonely. He’s been asking about you and where you are.”

“He has? Can I see him now?” “Well, I’ll have to wake him up.

What do you think?” “Yeah! Let’s go!” I swung the pendulum that I

knew would last only a few minutes. Evan was now taller and 10 pounds heavier, but we went through the same routine. I lifted him a few feet off the floor so he could see the cuckoo. He sat in the same amazement he did the year before as if nothing had changed.

After Evan left, I assumed the clock would wind down like it always did after a few minutes. But nine hours later it was still ticking. Maybe the show was just what the doctor ordered for the cuckoo. It always worked for Evan, and now it is going again.

I went to bed that night and left the clock’s window open. I heard the cuckoos and yodeling all night long, but they sounded great to me.