Romantic noodle

There are two kinds of people: those who throw things away and those who gather stuff. It’s been no secret at ni.vu.ni.connu that my beau is a gatherer (remember the t-shirt episode?). What’s worse, he’s the romantic gatherer type.

We’re at the restaurant one night this week and we’re waiting for the bill. His small wallet is sitting on the table. It has a plastic window showing his bling (fancy transit pass) so I pull it out to look at it.

A small piece of sea shell falls out of the wallet.

-« What’s that? »
-« Some piece of shell from the beach, I think. I just thought the colours were beautiful. »

I look at the small, triangular shell. I realize it’s a piece of a mussel.

-« Baby, this is a mussel shell. You didn’t get this from the beach. »
-« I didn’t? »
-« No, you got it out of my seafood soup at the fast-food noodle joint last Friday. »
-« Oh. That’s right. »

I look at him with my « you silly » air.

-« But isn’t it beautiful? Look at all the colours! »