Are we even speaking the same language?

Admittedly, I am not a “huge reader.”  Okay, so I read a little but there’s a good bit of reality television and web surfing that I admittedly waste time on.  Over the years I’ve become choosy about the books I spend time reading- probably because I feel there’s no time to read.  One of the better (and quick) books is The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman.  I’m often surprised by how many people haven’t heard of this book. Second to the bible, I can’t think of any other book that has helped shape our marriage more.

I’ll tell you a little secret too:  You can actually jump to the back of the book to take the survey.  Cut to the chase, that’s my motto.  (Of course, then you will want to start from the beginning). The results basically describe how you perceive love (your love language).  In my case, I found out that nothing tells me you love me more than taking out the garbage.  Wipe the kitchen cabinets and I’m yours forever.  Acts of service.

Mr. Robinson, on the other hand, likes his ‘cupcakes’ which are words of affirmation. No matter how many shirts I iron, meals I prepare, or dirty clothes I pick up what he really needs from me is a “thank you” or  “I am proud of you.”  Suffice it to say having this invaluable information has probably helped us avoid more than 1 civil war over the years.  The facts are so helpful that I think all engaged couples should save themselves some time and read it before the wedding.  Otherwise they will likely find themselves thinking, ‘are we even speaking the same language?’

Today is our 13 year wedding anniversary and we’ve had lots of bickering over the years but one fight in particular sticks out.  We often refer to it as “remember when we had our first big fight” argument.

We were both working for next-to-nothing at our just-out-of-college jobs when Mr. Robinson came across an Ann Taylor receipt I left on the kitchen counter.  He couldn’t believe I had spent whatever-the-amount-was on whatever-the-clothes-were and went on, and on, and on.  He yelled and me. I yelled at him.  At some point the exchange settled down and I called my mom (to this day, I insist it wasn’t to tattle on my new husband) who didn’t answer.  Unfortunately, not only did I forget to hang up the phone but we went back to yelling again about whatever-the-amount-was for whatever-the-clothes-were.  And the entire, heated quarrel had been recorded on Mom’s answering machine.  The same mother that hadn’t yet finished paying for the large wedding just months earlier.

 

 Robinson Kuersteiner Wedding 4/21/01

We look back now and laugh about that first big fight (well, he may not laugh quite as hard that his mother-in-law heard the falling out).  The story really has nothing to do with the 5 Love Languages book, unless the book had tips on sneaking new clothes from your new husband. Then the story would have tied together nicely.

Happy Anniversary Mr. R.  I  am proud of you.

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