I can still remember a couple that visited us in California so that they could take their family to Disneyland. It was fun to hear their stories in the evening after their children fell exhausted into bed. They had a great time on the Matterhorn and the Pirates of the Caribbean. I do not recall if they handed us a house gift. But I do remember that they cleaned my kitchen. Probably that indicates that acts of service ranks high on my Love Languages portfolio. Twenty years is a long time to remember something that took them an hour. We saved them the price of a hotel, and they scrubbed my stove top. Sweet.

John has taken on the task of sprucing the stove, in the absence of either a stream of house guests or me ever offering to tackle it. 

One of the obstacles in articulating someone else's love language is that some of us don't know what makes us feel loved. We may think it is gifts, but after the wrapping falls to the floor the excitement subsides. 

Just now I brought home a package from the post office for Zack. Ben saw him unwrapping it and paused his video to watch.

"You're lucky."

It didn't seem to matter that Ben did not want or need the new laptop cord, or the tape adapter. Opening a present is reward enough.

Maybe I could wrap him up a new toothbrush. He needs one.

Knowing your partner or children's love language is a great first step to feeling their joy as your own. Doing something about it is even better. ​