I still remember being told how to pronounce vehicles. There was a sign at the entrance to our local park which I read when I was seven or eight as "No veehickles". I had no idea what it meant. My dad, dead straight-faced, explained.
Well, he would: when he was a teenager cycling around Leeds he read the road name Gipton Approach as Gipton Appricotch. Deliberate mispronouncing was part of his charm. I especially loved his way of saying be careful: Carry-fyooly. Actually, I think he may have been dyslexic when nobody had heard of it so weird pronunciations were his way of remembering how to spell things.
He always got my mum to check his spelling on any important documents before they went out.