Using may and can appropriately, some musings in grammar.
“May I be frank with you?”
“Who’s Frank?”
“No, I mean may I be honest with you?”
“Sure, kiddo.”
“Aunt Ruth, do you know how to use ‘can’ and ‘may’ in a sentence?”
“Sure. Listen to this. I ate a can of beans last May.”
“No, not that kind of can and not that kind of may.”
“Oh, how’s this? May day, may day, the pilot is stuck in the can and I need someone to tell me how to land this plane.”
“Wow,” I remarked. “But no, that’s not what I meant either.”
“Then what did you mean, my dear but aggravating nephew?” she asked.
“Well, it’s like this,” I began. “It was a dark and stormy night.”
“Oh good, I love your stories,” she said, breaking into a big smile. “First, can I go make some popcorn?”
“May I?” I corrected her.
“Sure, be my guest,” she said, plopping down into her favorite comfy chair.
“No, I mean, you said, ‘Can I,’ and you should have said, ‘May I,’ in that sentence.”
“Why, oh Gargoyle of Grammar?” She was now frowning.
“Well, it’s like this. The word ‘can’ is generally used to describe the ability to do something. I can make the best grilled cheese sandwiches ever. I can wiggle my ears. I can think of a word that rhymes with orange.”
She sat there staring at me, motionless.
“Aunt Ruth?” I asked. “Are you okay?”
She paused another moment before responding, “Oh, I was just going into one of those catatonic states. It always happens when you try to explain things to me. Besides, the last time you made grilled cheese sandwiches for me, you burned them. I had to scrape off all the black stuff. And you forgot to take the plastic wrap off the slice of cheese.”
I thought for a moment. “They wrap those things in plastic?” I asked. “No wonder I’ve always thought they were chewy. Anyway, may I continue?”
“I think I’d rather try that water torture thing.”
“This will be quick.”
“The only thing you can do quickly is to list all of your good qualities.”
I ignored that comment and continued. “The word ‘may’ is generally used to ask permission to do something or to describe the possibility of something happening. May I shove bamboo shoots under your finger nails; it may rain tomorrow; if you mention me in your will, I may promise to never sing for you again.”
“Mister, you got yourself a deal,” she exclaimed.
“Okay Aunt Ruth, so do you think you’ve got it?”
“May I try?” she asked proudly.
“Yes you may,” I agreed.
“I can paddle a canoe and I can dance the can-can too; I may want to cross the street or I may just stay home and eat. I can outrun a black bear and I may buy some underwear; I may want to sleep in late or I can find someone to date.”
“Can you?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes I can,” she declared. “Further more, I can kick a board in half and I can wrestle with a calf; I may jump out of a plane or I may take the train in Spain; I can count to ten in French and I can work a crescent wrench; I may eat some Gouda cheese or I may fly a kite in breeze.”
“Hey!” I exclaimed. “May I fly a kite with you?”
“Hey!” she exclaimed. “We can only fly a kite if we get a kite with string attached.”
And we walked out the door, arm in arm, singing, “Let’s go fly a kite…”
For other musings by this author, please consider the following.
Image via Wikipedia
Ha!! what a character she is! lovely story Joel, most enjoyable 
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
