Rooted in the English language, American English, is a double conundrum, wrapped in an enigma, smacked around by a paradox, and allowed to mildew in an abandoned well for an undetermined amount of time. We’ve been hooked on phonics, regaled with ebonics (which by the way is spelled phonetically not taking into account that phonetically is not spelled fonetically.)
According to infomercials if you are a studious infant you can learn to read shortly after exiting the womb. I have yet to determine exactly what advantage this will afford but maybe it’s got something to do with being able to say dog three years before you actually get one. You can read the book that you just read or wind your watch in the wind. You can produce produce in your garden or record a record in a studio.
You can pull someone’s leg or jump in a lake without getting wet. You can float like a lead balloon or shoot the breeze.
With two (or three) letters you can entertain yourself for hours during the next rainy day.
Directional: I am going to the store.
Inclusive: I am going to the store, too.
Plural: I found two others to go to the store, too.
Finish with class: The first two I found, found two more to go to the store also.
When I continue writing, I’ll no doubt have a new found respect for all the little idiosyncrasies in the language of the greatest country in the world but I can’t help but wonder what Noah Webster would have thought had he known that the word “ain’t” would one day be added to his hallowed publication.