Today, I had a terrible time, because I met a Swedish guy, and when speaking Swedish it seemed like I every Swedish word clung to the tip of my tongue.

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Usually I can switch between English and Swedish instantly, and I can start a sentence in one language and switch to the other half-way through what I’m saying. I don’t have to think about it; it just happens.

Sometimes when mum and I talk to each other, half is in Swedish, and half is in English. At one time, Mark laughed at us at told us to decide already. By that time, I suspect we had switched languages two or three times in the same conversation.

So, today when I and Mark had a coffee with this guy, it seemed like I had to drag out every word of Swedish, and look at each one to see if it meant what I thought it meant. It was quite strange.

Maybe it was because Mark was with us, and while he has picked up a few words and a few sayings, he certainly does not speak Swedish. Maybe Mark’s presence made talking Swedish weird or odd because he was a part of the conversation.

But it did make me think that maybe I should do like mum pesters me to do, and read more Swedish books and newspapers. Just so that when I get the chance to speak it, I won’t be like today, and stutter in it.

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