Carly, on her way to age 3, caused some consternation and alarm at a recent family reunion in announcing that she “throwed the ball.”
     Her extended family, with more than its share of English majors, let out a gasp. “Did you hear her say ‘throwed’”? one of them asked.

     Why all that Carly, my granddaughter, was doing was following the English language rule that works most of the time: you form the past tense of a verb by adding “-ed.” When later she mentioned that she had “growed a lot,”–either by habit and analogy to “throw,” or simply because she thought she could get more reaction–there was even more concern.
     “Is that what they’ve taught her?” English Major No. 17 asked. Grammar Major No. 6 shook her head in bewilderment. They had a point, but so did Carly. I remember being roundly criticized at age 4 when I used the construction “amn’t I?” in place of the stilted “am I not?” Four older siblings were ready to pounce on me, but mercifully, Dolores, the oldest, explained that it should be “aren’t I.” That logic still eludes me. I may have then injected the locution, “I are trying to learn proper English.” Now, when people (and that means most people) turn “media” into a singular and ask, “Is the media doing a good job?” my response is, “Yes they is.”
     Thanks to Dolores’ compassion and understanding, I perhaps was spared a lifetime of improper contractions and maybe even split infinitives. Sister Ann Margaret, our elementary teacher at Immaculate Conception School, may have set us all on the right track when she said, “I’ve always hated contractions, and I don’t want to hear that you’ve used them.”
     I’ve contended all my life that English is extremely difficult, especially for someone attempting it at an advanced age. Sure, “survival” English, which people learn off the streets, comes easy. People stepping on to our turf quickly can muster enough vocabulary to get them through most situations. Yet, the stress, grammar and syntax of English are extremely complex.
     How can a foreigner learn English diction when the words “democrat,” “democracy” and “democratic” all have the stress on a different syllable? How can one discern the proper vowel when sight-rhymes such as “comb,” “bomb” and “tomb” fail to sound-rhyme?
     One of the complicating factors is the frequency of irregular verbs, as illustrated by Carly’s gaffe.
     To review: irregular verbs are those whose past-tense forms show no predictability. The past of blow is blew, but the past tense of flow is not flew but flowed. Flew is the past tense to fly, etc.
     English, which boasts about 800,000 words, belongs to the Great Society of Borrowers. Many of our common words are Latin and French in origin. During the dark and middle ages, what came to become English was really a potpourri of words. With the borrowings came the unconventional spellings, pronunciations and rules.
     Because of the large number of irregular verbs, I propose an if-you-can’t-beat-them-join-them arrangement. There are many irregular verbs, and surprisingly, most of them are the most common words in the language, words like go, run, eat, sleep, speak and write. Rather than attempt to explain or even get used to the irregular verbs, we ought to make all regular verbs irregular; that way we don’t have to stop and think. When I taught high school English, one of my students presented a humorous reading titled “Who Flang That Ball?” in which the main character “tried to easify the languish” by making all regular verbs irregular.
     It’s not as difficult as it may seem. Let’s try it:
    
     –My wife Bonnie awoke early one morning and boke some biscuits. Knowing my limited resistance to temptation, she hode (bid, bode/hid, hode) most of them. When I finally got some, they were so hot I blew on them. I slew (blow, blew/ slow, slew) down to enjoy them more. She brought me another just as the phone rought (bring, brought/ ring, rought).
     “How did you find the dozen biscuits you ate? she asked, “That is, if you don’t mind telling me.” Of course I found them delicious, but I mound her asking, as I raught for another.
     As I broze (freeze, froze . . . ) out the door on my way to work, she remound me to watch my diet, as she noticed that I hode an extra biscuit in my backpack. With the authority that only a wife of 37 years can employ, she leant forward and pept into my backpack. “I ought to fine you a dollar every time you overeat,” she said. She foned me all right, and watched to see whether I blank (sink, sank . . .).
     We plew (slay, slew . . .) that game once before, and I suspect our grandson Arthur loke (speak, spoke . . .) sensitive information to Bonnie.
     I learned a lesson and hed (feed, fed . . .) Bonnie’s advice. I sun (spin, spun . . . ) against my resolution to lose weight, and my weakness lood (stand, stood . . .) me on the path toward weight gain. I decided that I had lave (give, gave . . .) too long under this self-defeating habit. The next time Bonnie book biscuits, I bote off just a little piece, and I yold out how delicious it was.
     As I went out the door, I glew as she grun and wank at me. Since then I’ve been faithful to my diet. And from now on I will have practiced what I praught.