Beware the eight...

Poor grammar drives me crazy. When spoken, it doesn’t really bother me; I guess hearing it constantly from the kids has tempered my distaste. Poorly written grammar is unforgivable. We got some material for Sunday School last week, but it seems to have been typed by a 14 year old. Or perhaps a well meaning adult who has no basic understanding of the proper use of an apostrophe. Yes, I know I began a sentence with a conjunction, but that is for proper conveyance of my verbal style. Plural words need no apostrophe! An apostrophe makes a noun possessive. I don’t know how many times I have had to correct that in the last couple days, but I assure you it was more than necessary. A lot of my nitpicky-ness comes from my dear mother. She was a teacher, and holds two different degrees, so she made sure that Ruth (my sister) and I were properly trained in good verbitisation.

I have always had trouble with the IE-EI combination in spelling. I know, “I before E except after C…” That doesn’t always work. For example, “Their.” Where is the C? In order for the IE rule to work, it would need to be spelled “Thceirs.” Or “Tcheirs.” Or the ultimate of ridiculousness, “C’Theirs.” That is the way the word would have been spelled if it was born in Bonton, and it adhered to the IE rule. It’s silly, I know, and I can spell correctly, but I have to check myself.

Math is something that has always eluded me. Numbers aren’t my favorite thing. I remember in the third grade putting personalities to the numbers 0-9. I only remember a couple. I was really bad at the 8-times tables, so 8 was evil. 3 was 4’s little brother who wanted nothing more than to be a 4. 6 was whiny. 7 didn’t like anyone. It (for some reason) used to fascinate me that 6x4=24, and 8x3=24. I used to imagine that 8 was terribly jealous of 6 and 4’s friendship, and so to get even, he kidnapped 3 and forced him to become 24 with him. The fact that 6 and 4 didn’t care, infuriated 8. In retaliation 8 stalked 6 wherever he went… It was part of my crazy childhood. It doesn’t really make sense, but it did back then.

I leave on a note familiar to those who grew up watching PBS. “Come and meet the Letter People, come and visit the family! Words are made from Letter People, A B C D… follow me!”