Love language
Feb 11, 2009 | 9619 views | 0 0 comments | 1330 1330 recommendations | email to a friend | print
MY CAVE, MY VIEW by Gary Torres

The headline read, “When we multitask, we get stupid.” 

My too kind and loving wife looks up over her glasses and asks, “Have you been multitasking more than usual honey?” 

I don’t stop what I am doing, but continue to spin my pen, tap my foot, click-click on my computer, scan the 11 Web pages I have open on my desktop and reply, “Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Her response is a confirming, “Hhmmmm.”

Many of our conversations are like this; she says words that are not easy to spell since they are more guttural in nature and I answer without really hearing the question. 

Besides, even though we are using the same words the meanings are completely different; I use man-speak and she uses woman-speak which is really the problem with all man-woman relationships.  I can assure you when I say, “Hhmmmm.”  I mean a completely different thing than she does.

I suppose we don’t have more problems than any other couple.  I didn’t even know we were having problems until she read a self-help book called The Five Languages of Love.  Communication is very important in a relationship.

It isn’t helping matters any that the Linguistic Society of America reports there are at least 6,809 languages and new ones being discovered each year. 

Did you know that the Bible or portions have been translated into 2,197 languages?  I don’t know if the 6,809 languages include the five love-languages: “words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service, and physical touch.” 

I can’t even speak English real good and now they want me to speak a love-language even gooder.

It used to be easier, men and women got along for many years with simplified language, pointing, grunting, or drawing pictures on rocks.

I think all self-help books like this should have warning labels, “Reading this book may cause marital problems.”  For heck sakes, it is worse than second hand smoke.  You might die from a misprint!

This love language has its own dialect.  For example I was trying to explain this to Bubba.  “Imagine that you walk in the door and yer wife says ‘I need words of affirmation to fill my love-tank and I was hoping for some quality time together.’  Bubba, let me explain what she just said, “I would like to carry on an intelligent conversation where the man is required to turn off the TV, listen, not judge, not solve the problem, and not fall asleep, or click-click on his computer; and it may very well include a full body massage, manicure, pedicure, cuddling, spooning, and sensitive remarks affirming her beauty and self worth.”

He grins, scratches, moves his abdomen to assist with digestion then says “How ‘bout this for a language of love, ‘I sure do love taters… where the heck is dinner, you know its football night?”

So our communication is still a work in progress.  One day in complete frustration she stormed in like a SWAT team, megaphone in hand.  She blarred, “You in the pajamas…Back away from the fridge!...Put the Haagen Dazs down, Don’t even smell that donut, and Put  the remote control on the ground and slide it this way.   Now Chubby Hubby!!” 

I did the only thing I could do; I tried to reason with her.  “Honey honey honey.  Let’s don’t get crazy here.  I am still the man you know and love.  Speak to me in that language of love.  What did that book say?  Words of affirmation?  How about telling me I look good in tight pajamas?”  Well, so much for the language of love in My Cave.
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