Buckle: (v) to join the ends of a belt or strap.
“One, two, buckle my shoe…”
I peered at her, frowning. She laughed. “It doesn’t change how good the rhyme is.”
She was right–especially when you consider the power of the concept of, “…three, four, shut the door.”
But “five, six, pick up sticks” still confuses me.
And then, for some reason, after “eight” we’re supposed to “lay them straight.”
And for the final act, we have a “big, fat hen.”
(Maybe our forefathers did take drugs.)
Yet, what do we buckle?
Belts. Do people still wear belts? Not as much as they used to, though I’m sure I will be contradicted.
Actually, we’ve grown plumper in this country, so most of us have a belly that holds our pants up quite well.
We do buckle our seat belts, though I think now we say, “Put on your seat belt.” They don’t really buckle–they snap.
So what use for ae buckle?
Matter of fact, the word has taken on the responsibility of donning a new personality.
Now when we use the word “buckle” we are usually talking about “buckling under pressure.”
“Buckle at the knees.”
To buckle is to give in to surrounding circumstances, failing to exhibit adequate backbone.
I wonder if it hurt your backbone when you bent over to buckle your shoes…