How many times has this scene taken place in our house: Aaron is crabby as heck after a long day at school, and only some quality time with his mother will fill him up again. Never mind that his outward actions hardly make him the easiest to love, what with all the tantrums and crying and defiance and whining. And yet, dutifully and with a preternatural tenderness, Amy sidles up to her googly bear and offers him some TLC. And, within minutes, the beast is gone and a sunny disposition is back. Yes, Amy is Aaron's love language; and, thankfully for me and for Aaron, she has the patience and the love to make sure he gets his fill.
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