For our wedding anniversary, I bought N a bouquet of pink roses and a huge box of chocolates with all kinds of fruit fillings.
“Can you wrap it in pink paper with a pink bow?” I asked the young man at the counter.
“Sure,” he said. “Who is it for?”
“It’s for my husband,” I explained.
“Where are you from?” he wondered.
“From Ukraine.”
“So is it a tradition in your country to give men flowers?”
“Yes,” I replied, “and they have got to be pink.”
“That’s so cool,” the young man said. “I wish I were from Ukraine.”
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