grammar (again).

We all love grammar. For years, I counted myself an avid grammarian. Not only does it facilitate communication, but outside of glasses and an extended pinkie finger when drinking from any cup with a handle, it’s maybe the quickest way to show how much smarter, and therefore, better, you are than everyone else.

“Whom.”

“What?”

“You said, ‘I didn’t know who the cookies were baked for.’ It’s ‘whom.’ You didn’t know for whom the cookies were baked. Pardon my interrupting. Please continue with your asinine retelling of that riveting tale of the dispossessed cookies.”

But as useful as it is, grammar can be a dubious mistress. Once a person establishes himself as a grammarian, it’s as if a bright red bull’s-eye has been painted on his forehead. Everyone’s out to correct the corrector. As the grammarian desires to do the correcting before providing the opportunity to be corrected, discussion soon devolves from an exercise in human bonding and an exchange of pertinent information into a callous stakeout for linguistic folly.

“Dad, hurry! We have to get mom to the hospital right now! She’s bleeding pretty bad!”

“Tut, tut, tut, son. We need to get mom to the hospital right now because she’s bleeding pretty badly. In this house, we use adverbs.”

But I’ve surprised myself lately. My commitment to grammar has begun to wane some. I’ve started to wonder who these grammar gods are and where they get off imposing their arbitrary will on us decent, hardworking Americans.

The questioning of my faith started with the word “fun.” For years, I, like many others, had jumped at the chance to announce that the correct method for adding comparative degree to the word was not “funner” but “more fun.” Sometimes when I was a kid, I would even pose questions as a sort of trap for my friends just so I could correct them.

“Hey Billy, which do you think provides you more fun—roller coasters or water slides?”

“Hmm…that’s a toughy. I don’t know, maybe water slides are a little funner.”

That’s when I would pounce. As you might expect, I didn’t hang on to friends very long.

I remember when it hit me. It hit hard. I was babysitting a three-year old cousin. He was trying to express to me a preference for the trampoline instead of the swing set. Of course, I had to interrupt and inform him that it’s “more fun” and not “funner.” Then he asked a simple question that absolutely floored me.

“Why?”

I had no idea why “funner” is not correct. “Faster” is correct. “Taller” is correct. Even “toastier” works. Why not funner? It could have been the trampoline that I was standing on, but at that realization, I swear I felt my world shifting beneath my very feet.

Now I don’t know where to turn. No grammarian I’ve encountered seems to have an answer for why “funner” is incorrect. I’ve dug my old grammar books from the closet and studied them closely. I’ve taken long walks in nature, pondering any and all possible explanations. Despite my efforts, I have found no valid answer. As a result, somehow, grammar doesn’t seem as pure or as tidy a system as it used to. Suddenly, the grammar gods seem silly and small with their spectacles teetering on the edges of their noses and their pinkies all haughtily protruding. Thus shaken, I don’t know if I'll ever correct someone’s grammar again.