You Could Be Right… But You Should Shut Up: The Hidden Power of Model Auxiliary Verbs
Introduction:Grammar: The Weapon You Didn’t Know Was Loaded
Look. I’m not here to give you PTSD flashbacks of your high school English teacher yelling about dangling participles and passive voice. Frankly, I’ve barely recovered myself. After years of being emotionally battered by things like the past perfect continuous and subject-verb agreement, the last thing I thought I’d ever write about was grammar. Yet here I am—because something wild happened at Home Depot. And because I realized that model auxiliary verbs (or MAVs for short) might actually be the silent assassins of the English language.
They’re not just grammar tools. They are the tiny, innocent-looking words that can turn a sweet suggestion into a marital argument or downgrade a murder charge into manslaughter.
Yes. It’s that serious.
What the MAV?
Let’s start at the very beginning—because if you’re like me, the only models you care about are the ones on runways or in LEGO boxes. So, what are Model Auxiliary Verbs?
They’re those little helpers that sneak into sentences and change the entire meaning of what you’re trying to say. They include words like can, could, may, might, should, shall, will, would, must, and ought to. Most of us toss them around in everyday speech without thinking. But if you actually stop and break down a sentence with one of these babies in it, the whole vibe changes depending on which one you use.
I’m talking relationship-changing, court-verdict-shifting levels of power.
The Home Depot Saga: A Tile, A Verb, A Fight Waiting to Happen
So, picture this: I’m in Home Depot, minding my business, probably lost in the paint aisle because that’s where I go to avoid real responsibilities. I overhear a couple looking at tiles for their bathroom renovation. The wife holds up this chic, Pinterest-worthy tile and says,
“We should get this one. I love it.”
Her husband, very much not picking up on the urgency, says:
“You could if you want to.”
Now, to the untrained ear, that sounds harmless. Sweet, even. Like he’s giving her free will. But to someone like me—who breaks down every sentence in real-time like I’m decoding CIA intel—that was an emotional landmine.
Her use of should implied a strong suggestion, a joint decision. A “we’re in this together” moment. His could, on the other hand, screamed optional. Detached. Indifferent.
In other words, “Pick whatever, I don’t really care.”
And folks, if there’s one person on this earth you shouldn’t be indifferent toward, it’s the woman holding a tile and your future bathroom aesthetics in her hands. The tension snapped like a brittle laminate plank. She hit him back with:
“It would be nice if you would be supportive and just pick one.”
Boom. That’s how grammar breaks homes.
Grammar That Gets You Off (In Court, Not Like That)
You’re probably still laughing, thinking I’m exaggerating. So let’s take it up a notch. Court cases. Real ones. Decided by Model. Freaking. Auxiliary. Verbs.
In 2006, in Newfoundland, a woman named Mary was acquitted of criminal negligence causing death. Why? Because her defense hinged on one MAV:
She said she thought the shadow could have been a bear—not a person.
Not would—could.
That one-word shift changed her actions from intentional to accidental. The court agreed. No mens rea (aka guilty mind), no murder. The grammar saved her.
Another case? A father in Calgary was charged after shaking and throwing his three-month-old baby (don’t even get me started). He wasn’t convicted of murder, though—just manslaughter. Why? Because he claimed he didn’t realize his actions could result in death.
Not would—could.
Again, that seemingly insignificant verb spelled the difference between a murder charge and something far less severe. Grammar saved his sorry ass.
Why It Might Matter More Than You Think
Here’s the kicker. Most of us speak on autopilot. We throw out sentences like spaghetti at a wall, hoping meaning sticks. But MAVs are sneaky. They quietly reroute the entire message you’re trying to convey. They add doubt, certainty, permission, obligation—all the spicy little undercurrents of language.
So next time you’re saying something important—especially to a spouse, a lawyer, or a judge—stop and think. Do you mean could… or should? Might… or must? Would… or will?
Because could gets you killed, should gets you divorced, and would might just get you acquitted.
Conclusion: May the MAVs Be Ever in Your Favour
So, dear reader, what have we learned today? That grammar isn’t just about sounding smart in emails or bullying people on Reddit. It’s about survival. Your choice of MAV can start a fight, end a relationship, or beat a charge.
Do I sound dramatic? Maybe. But would I be lying? Absolutely not.
So go forth. Speak wisely. And for the love of your freedom, your marriage, and your home decor—choose your auxiliary verbs like your life depends on it.
Because, as you now know…
It just might.
