Innocuous

I used the word "innocuous" to describe how poison ivy looks today. "It looks so innocuous," I said.
If you heard my comment in passing, you'd have thought nothing of it. After all, it was a plain, vanilla sentence that contains nothing fancy or worth noting. It was a simple sentence composed of a fitting description chosen from the vast English vocabulary. However, if you observed the deliverance closely, you might have noticed the slight pause in the sentence and the slight twitch of facial muscle before the word was uttered and the sentence was finished.
That pause there? Many things were happening in my head then.
First, there's the recall of the word innocuous.
Then comes the examination. What does the word mean? Does it really mean what I think it means? Where did I learn it? Is that how you pronounce it? Am I going to make a fool of myself by trying to use it?
Following that is the weighing of risks. How sure am I of the word? How stupid would I appear if I made a mistake? How significant would the price be if I used it wrong?
A slight wavering could happen. An internal struggle of whether I should gamble and use the word, or play it safe and swap it out.
Finally, there is the jump. I form the word in my mouth, bring it to my tongue, and let it out.
Once it's out, I secretly hold my breath and wait for the other person's reaction.
No furrowing of brows in confusions? No delay in reaction followed by a "oh, I get it!" realization? Success!

I've lived in this country for 11 years, 7 of which with my English speaking husband. According to him my English has improved dramatically. And yet I find myself still grappling with the language on a daily basis. Vocabulary, especially when speaking, can dessert me like rats jumping off a sinking ship. Grammar is that slippery soap that, just when I think I got a handle on it, escapes my grasp and falls off the floor with a clunk. If I made a mistake in a conversation and became aware of it, oh my, the language turns its cold shoulders at me and pretend that we are strangers. Then the babbling comes in and the sense making goes out the window. In no time, my children will be correcting my speech. And if they dare roll their eyes while doing so, I shall thank them by speaking in Chinese only.