The Vagaries of the English Language

We will begin with a box, whose plural is boxes; but the plural of ox became oxen not oxes.

One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese, yet the plural of moose should never be meese.

You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice; yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men, why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?

If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth, why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those, yet hat in the plural would never be hose, and the plural of cat is cats, not cose.

We speak of a brother and of brethren, but though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him, but imagine the feminine she, shis and shim.

Let's face it, English is a crazy language. We take English for granted. But if we explore its
paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If Dad is Pop, how come Mum isn't Mop?

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and wise guy are opposites?

We have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as
it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm goes off by going on.