It’s a very strange thing to find oneself speaking like a four-year-old in mid-life.

My daughter is four, and my son is only six, so this is all very familiar; I have seen it from the outside. I stammer; I get frustrated searching for a word that just won’t come to my mouth— I know that I’m using some words and phrases incorrectly, and I’m embarrassed about it, but I can’t help it. When I’m speaking and someone smiles, I’m not sure if they are smiling to encourage me, or laughing at my pronunciation. When I’m speaking and I’m met with blank looks, I can’t tell if it is my words or my ideas that are incomprehensible.