Wednesday, September 15, 2010

wifercize wednesday: mr tickle

In 2006 I wrote about the Five Love Languages.  At the time, Andrew and I had been dating for a total of five months, so I was pretty sure that my results would be entirely different now that we've been married for nearly 2.5 years.  They weren't.

Complete set of results

Quality Time: 11
Physical Touch: 9
Words of Affirmation: 7
Acts of Service: 2
Receiving Gifts: 1

Take the quiz

I began to wonder if our love languages change at all over the course of our life time.  My childhood pretty much consisted of seeking an audience with various members of the family either before, during or after a cuddle, tickle, tackle or wrestle.  Nothing could surpass a road trip.  Endless hours of time together while sitting in close proximity.

How my husband is able to deal with this (especially when his second love language, when last we checked, was "acts of service" and I use my measly 2 less frequently than I should) is a mystery to me.  Thank goodness we both have "quality time" as our number one, because sometimes I wonder if my "physical touch" obsession concerns him.

Last night while we were making dinner I bounced around him (in a display not unlike our chocolate lab when we say the word PARK) and latched to him in a koala hug, possibly injuring his back.  I AM NOT ALONE.  Friends of mine share similar confessions: chasing, squeezing, and cuddling without consent are more frequent among wives than you might expect.

I hear this diminishes once children enter center stage and, wives-turned-to-mothers, our kind spends time chasing, squeezing and cuddling them instead.  Which is handy because babies can't run for the first few months or so.

I loved this book when I was little:
I loved that his arms could go anywhere in the house where he lived.  Upstairs, downstairs, out the front door.  For me, my arms only have to be as long as it requires for me to tuck my hand under Andrew's shoulder or arm.  We call it "plugging in": my love tank gets filled while I sleep.

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