We normally speak English together at home, owing equally to habit and laziness. But in Gamla Stan, in that beautiful restaurant which has been in existence for over 400 years, it seemed that only the tourists were speaking English. (The semi-annoying couple at the table next to us underscored that fact.) So we did it. I set my perfectionist self aside and spoke my unique version of Swedish, while he found the patience that he has sometimes lacked on similar occasions in the past and we spoke the same language.