Somehow, a vuvuzela made its way into our house. A vuvuzela, for those of you who aren't involved in the world of South African soccer (football), is a plastic trumpet-y horn thing that sounds rather like an elephant giving birth.
FIFA wants to ban it, South African fans adore it, and me? I've taken to blowing it to call my children to the dinner table. Whether they're upstairs, outside, or hiding in the storage closet under the stairs, they can hear the vuvuzela and come running to the table. It's great, and it saves me the trouble of having to yell or play "wegkruipertjie" when it's time to eat.
I never thought I'd have any affection for the vuvuzela, having once thought it to be an assault on my ears, but then, it's generally not a good idea to use words like "never" and "always."