Speaking the Same Language

"It's really fun to get to know you all over again in another language" my husband said to me playfully in Swedish as we strolled through Gamla Stan, the old city of Stockholm, on our way home from dinner on Friday night. It is one of the nicest compliments he has ever given me:  I can now speak Swedish at a level where my personality has begun to shine through and where he actually enjoys speaking his native language with me.

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.