Does your vehicle have a motor or does it have an engine? If it’s a hybrid, it has both — but which one is which? This pointless debate, which sometimes pops up in automotive magazines, is a perfect example of what we’ll be looking at today: Everyday things that we call by two (or sometimes more) different names.

For example, at the supermarket checkout you might pull out a billfold or a wallet, or dip into a handbag, purse or pocketbook, and then lug everything out in a bag or a sack, or maybe even a box or a carton.

Just yesterday morning, two kids wanted pancakes for breakfast, and two wanted flapjacks. “Yes, OK, but it will take a while to make both of them,” I yawned, secretly smiling at my slyness. (In a recent episode of “The Simpsons,” Marge told Homer, “Here are your pancakes, the flapjacks will be ready soon.” Also, is it OK to order flapjacks at the International House of Pancakes?)

With breakfast out of the way, it was time to tackle a little work in the garden with the help of my German friend, Claus. “Take the pail,” I instructed him, “and fill it from the faucet at the top of the stairs.”

“Do you mean for me to fill it from the spigot at the top of the steps?” he asked.

“Right, from the tap. And after you’ve watered the garden, take the scissors and trim around the poles.”

“Got it,” he said, “trim around the posts with the shears.”

“And then we’ll try to trap that woodchuck that’s driving me crazy.”

“Sehr gut” (very good), he agreed, “Got to get that groundhog.”

After a long morning of gardening and fruitless varmint chasing, it was time to take the whole gang to lunch. “So what does everyone want to eat?” I asked. “All right, one sub, one hero, a hoagie, a grinder and an Italian, got it.” As usual, one of the kids always wants something else, in this case a hot dog. Ah, a good old hot dog, and not one of those fancy-sounding wieners or frankfurters. And to drink? OK, three sodas, two pops and a tonic.

During lunch, Claus asked me, “Warum (why) does English have so many words for the same thing?” I explained to him that only about a quarter of our words come from Old English, with most of the rest coming from either French or Latin. “For example,” I said, “words such as ‘bucket’ and ‘shears’ are from Old English, while ‘pail’ and ‘scissors’ come to us from French and Latin.”

Upon returning from lunch, it was time for my afternoon nap, so I went into my ridiculously large living room, where I had to decide among the sofa with the ottoman, the davenport with the hassock or the couch with the footstool.

As I drifted off to sleep, I returned to the question of what’s under the hood of my minivan. That mysterious thing that powers an electric car, most people would agree, is called a motor. That smelly lump that guzzles gallons of gasoline, on the other hand, is more difficult to define. Purists insist that it’s an “internal combustion engine,” even though it’s often referred to as a motor. This debate prompted one wit to declare that if you insist that your car has an engine, you’d better be sure not to put motor oil in it.

Jim Witherell of Lewiston is a writer and lover of words whose work includes “L.L. Bean: The Man and His Company” and “Ed Muskie: Made in Maine.”

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