When I point out to my English friends that they’re mispronouncing the word “banana” (which, after two drinks, I do frequently), they have a tendency to point out that our shared language is called “English,” not “American.” I usually tell them that while they may have invented the language, we perfected it, and then we usually start shouting and drinking too much and it all gets a bit blurry.
I stand by our folksy, cartoonish form of English, though. Yes, we can sometimes butcher the language beyond recognition, but we’ve made it our own to the point that it can be practically impenetrable to non-native speakers. As I’ve traveled to Spanish-speaking countries and learned another language, I’ve realized how heavily Americans depend on metaphors and idioms that don’t translate, and occasionally, I come across an idiom that may actually be straight-up inexplicable for a non-American to understand.