Love languages - as learned in a Romanian orphanage

Kyle is drying his hands in the kitchen after preparing supper. I walk toward him with my arms outstretched for a hug. Kyle runs away into the living room.

Me: Hey, I want a hug.
Kyle: No.
Me: I need loving touch.
Kyle: Okay, fine. (pokes my calf with his socked foot) There you go.
Me: That is not loving touch.
Kyle: If I'm willing to touch you, that means it's loving.