Wednesday, 30 June 2010

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 could tell you the where, when and why of those times too. My Mauritian does not do flowers, so it’s just as well I don’t either.
My Mauritian loves to cook and is a very tidy cook indeed. He cleans as he goes along and the kitchen sparkles when the food is done. A sharp contrast to my distaste for cooking and the mess I make as I go, I cook because I have to not because I want to.
My Mauritian never had an issue with changing a “crappy” nappy, his attitude is “everybody’s got to go somewhere!”
My Mauritian will vacuum, clean windows and even dust the furniture with precision. He is fussy about the state of the garden; it has always got to look tidy. He is a perfectionist and though extremely tolerant of others imperfections and mistakes, he cannot abide them in himself. He works hard, is very good at what he does and is not shy to say it.
My Mauritian hasn’t a jealous bone in his body neither is he judgemental or critical of peoples characters or way of life.
My Mauritian has a wicked sense of humour and a laugh that comes from his feet and lights up his face, yet he often takes life and himself far too seriously.
My Mauritian is very creative and when in the mood, sketches beautifully; he enjoys working with wood and spends hours creating with the Butterfly’s building blocks and “Play dough”.
My Mauritian is far too overprotective of his Butterfly and she knows just how to use this knowledge.
My Mauritian like’s movies with lots of blood guts and gore, and graphic description do not put him off his food. But he doesn’t like flying, is weary of computers and absolutely hates spiders.
My Mauritian seems to always be complaining about something and over exaggerates just about everything.
My Mauritian has a quick, violent temper of which he loses control quickly. He over analyses people and their intentions, and miss reads situations and conversation often. He swears “like a sailor” and will be intentionally offensive to anyone who upsets him enough.
My Mauritian can be immovably stubborn and unimaginably selfish and self centre but will deny it fervently when confronted about it. He allows his mind to wonder while I’m talking to him and then swears blind he heard me when I say anything.

In short my Mauritian is just a regular all round nice guy with some negatives thrown in to make him real. My Mauritian is an attentive husband, a doting over indulgent father, a loyal friend, and a dutiful son. My Mauritian loves his family with every part of himself, my Mauritian accepts the real me inside and out.

He is the perfect “Ying” to my “Yang”.