My Mauritian
The Mauritian had a rare nostalgic moment one Saturday morning, put on my “Colesky” CD, played the song “Share My Life” and asked me to dance. So there we were, in our pyjamas slow dancing in our teeny tiny kitchen. Not to be out done the Butterfly joined in with a “Hey guys, what you doing?” and wrapped her arms around my leg and swayed in the completely wrong direction to us. My Mauritian is not a romantic, nor does he get sentimental very often so I treasure those times when he comes home with a chocolate or some other small present that he thought I might like. He is not someone who buys birthday and Christmas presents on time without a lot of prompting and reminding, but he has no issue with just giving a gift for no reason other than he thought I’d like it. Though I will admit that the day he comes home with flowers I will want to know what it is he has done wrong. I can count on one hand the number of times he has brought me flowers in the 20 years I have known him, in fact I c