Febuary is the new February

In a memorable Seinfeld episode, the portrayed owner of the New York Yankees, George Steinbrenner, asks a perennial question: "Is it Feb-ru-ary or Feb-u-ary? 'Cause I prefer uary. And what's with this ru?"  

What is with this ru? Not only does February have the dubious distinction of adding an extra day every four years, it's impossible to say without wondering if you've said it correctly.  

Really, we shouldn't. Have you ever had qualms about saying Wednesday? What's with the dnes? Or how about knife? We wouldn't dare pronounce the "k", lest we get our knickers in a knot (that's an English joke). 

Have you ever pronounced the "e" in bite? Just because they used to, doesn't mean you have to today. Englishmen and women used to pronounce bite in two syllables: bi-te. Over time, they realized the "e" was too much work.

As for other unused letters, the "k" in knife has never been pronounced, at least not by the English. In German, from where the word originates, the kn sound rolls off the tongue like sauerkraut and wienerschnitzel. We don't like the way it feels in our mouth, so some English scribe made a compromise – to only spell knife with a "k".

Because English isn’t confusing enough. Just ask my Ukrainian wife, who for years had to learn by trial and error. 

I was of little help when asked to explain the vagaries of our vocabulary. Why not deers when there are ducks? Why geese but not gooses? Why moose and not meese?  

And that's just wildlife. Never mind the thousands of other words that require memorization. It can drive an ESL student nuts. 

The rules are inconsistent and irrational, yet stringently enforced by English speakers. If we catch you muffing a word, we will hold you to account. We might even make you say it over and over again, until you're nearly shouting it. (This is unintentional, of course.) 

As my nephew from Ukraine will attest, there is no curbing the arrogance of an English tutor – or at least one like me. He endured a year of taunts and cringes as he wrestled with the unwieldy words of my mother tongue. In one lesson, I over-analyzed his pronunciation of good until he could no longer say it at all. To this day, he still dreads responding to "How are you?" 

Yes, it’s cruel and unfair. As a native English speaker, I am all-knowing because what I speak is always right. It's right because it sounds right. I don't need to understand the basics of grammar to understand what I'm saying is correct – it just is. 

Unless of course it isn't – or is, but sounds like it isn't. Check out this grammatically correct sentence: "All the faith he had had had had no effect on his life." As explained on grammarly.com, this statement relies on a double use of the past perfect. Of course it does! (Unlike most ESL students, I have no idea what the past perfect is.) 

I do know, however, that it's not tal-k, it's tawk. It's not etcetera, it's ex-cetera. It's not hamster, it's hampster. No wait...  

One thing is for certain – words will continue to change and evolve. Accelerated by the advent of texts and Twitter, some suggest that our language is regressing at an alarming rate. It's quite possible that English will degenerate into a series of acronyms and emojis, similar to my iPhone reading a text from my 10-year-old daughter: 

"How’s it going bro? Hi5 bro. Whawhawhawhawhat? Flushed face. Fair skinned woman face-palming. Winking face with tongue." 

LOL.