Vuvuzelas…more than just a horn…
Daniel and Gigi finding other uses for the vuvuzela...and we wonder where Gigi learned to use the vuvuzela as a machine gun...
Gigi's favorite game
It’s 7:30 AM, Wednesday morning in the clinic, and the morning rituals have begun. Daniel and Gigi are running through the clinic playing with the vuvuzela. Although the World Cup has come and gone, they are working hard to ensure that the horn and it’s noise-making abilities are not forgotten…Gigi, who seems to be training to be a future sniper prefers to hold the horn with the mouthpiece away from him so that he can look over the front and squint his eyes to take aim at his older brother…perhaps this is an improvement to him putting the mouthpiece in his mouth so that it elevates his three-year-old proclamations, which don’t really sound much like Creole or English…we’ve given up trying to encourage him against running around the house mimicking gun noises with his mouth.
Other uses of the vuvuzela...
Meanwhile, Delshana is brushing/braiding my hair. Missy and I are usually the first of Delshana’s live toys to wake up and emerge from the back room each morning, so it’s only natural that we would be the first to receive her eager attention. Delshana is quite the hairdresser, and she especially enjoys winding her client’s hairs into neat, tiny braids. She stops after the completion of each one to tell me how many braids she has completed. Unfortunately, the braids begin to slip out of my hair before she has completed braiding all of them, so they don’t last very long. But she is eager to rebraid them, and probably would braid and rebraid all day if I let her. Although I can only take so many braids a day, I don’t mind letting her brush my hair. Actually, the jury is still out debating who finds greater enjoyment from this ritual…she is very gentle, and it feels really good to have her brush my hair. I’m pretty sure that the last time that my hair received this much attention, I was still young enough that my mom french braided my hair every morning before school.
If she gets a hold of rubberbands, who knows, maybe we will all be coming home with our hair braided.
