The next best thing

So yesterday I lamented the fact that I do not yet possess a vuvuzela. Since I never learned how to whistle like a freight train (you know the kind: where you stick two fingers in your mouth and let rip a shrill that can be heard across town), I must rely on devices such as these to get the kids’ collective attention.

But just as I sat down to see how much they were on eBay, I heard the low bleating of some kind of horn from downstairs.

Low and behold: the boys have found our didgeridoo. Not quite as portable as a vuvuzela, but I’m excited thinking of all the ways we can use it in the meantime.

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Why do we have an authentic didgeridoo? Oh, we got it as a wedding present. Because really, nothing says “wishing you luck and love in your married life” like an aboriginal wind instrument. What? Why are you laughing? You mean YOU didn’t get one when you got married? Huh…Too bad for you.