Grammar Cop

I am a self-appointed grammar cop. 

In college, I proofread books for Thomas Nelson Publishers for fun (read: unpaid internship).  I worked as a copyeditor for a magazine before I realized that one cannot live on a copyeditor's salary. I had a great time writing my master's thesis, published a few art history articles, have kept my orange well-worn Chicago Manual of Style on a nearby shelf for over 20 years, and actually made a side career of grant writing.  Which is pretty technical stuff when you think about it. (incomplete sentence--I know, I know.)



I have been SO tempted to do this. But I'm too nice.
And don't want to get arrested by an actual cop.

So you can only imagine the sheer, self-inflicted torture it is for me to write a blog.  If there is stat tracking on Blogger for "edits," I may be setting the world record.  There is no writing for me--only rewriting, re-rewriting, and the occasional total overhaul followed by a final tweak or two (or 200).   



Yummy.

My honey is a kindred spirit on this matter.  Since we are such like-minded parents (meaning you may live here only if you can properly use an apostrophe), we have taken a three-pronged approach to promote good grammar in our household:

1) Have our kids read great books.  We expect them to produce good writing because they've read good writing.  Input equals output.  Now, I do not let my little people go freely about their literary selections.  I know they have a limited amount of time to read, so I want the content to be something amazing.  The junk-to-good-book-ratio is very high, so a few guided choices help keep them reading books that are written well. (Curse you, Junie B. Jones!)

2) Send them to a school where old-fashioned grammar is taught.  Our classical school teaches proper sentence structure, articles, adverbs, indirect objects, declarative punctuation (that would be a period, folks), dangling participles, transitivity of verbs--you name it, my kids can identify it.  Particularly high on the awesome scale is how they orally diagram sentences.  It is a rare sight on the planet Earth to see 8-year-olds perform this particular trick in unison. Humbling, really.

3.) Give a child $1.00 on the spot for every grammatical error they find.  I have to give credit for this incredibly effective idea to the captain of our squad.  As you can imagine, my kids keep their eyes peeled for typoes, misplaced apostrophe's, incorrect tense, improper use of, commas, and they're their favorite, the good old homophone.  It increases their attention to detail in the printed word (or sign, or menu, or billboard) by shamelessly taking advantage of their desire for cold hard cash.

My kids see this and I'm out three bucks. Can you spot the errors?

The downside of being a grammar cop is that not everyone appreciates you pointing out their mistakes.  I apologize right here and now if you are one of those people.  It's a compulsive, knee-jerk reaction for nerds like me.  But you have to see it from my point of view.  It's a public service, y'all! (Or is it ya'll? Texans--debate amongst yourselves).

Case in point: there's an A+ rated public school right in the middle of town that has a metal sign saying "Busses Only." It makes me squirm thinking about how many of their students are growing up believing that's how you spell the word.  Do you suppose I could send an anonymous letter to the front office?  It's only been hanging there for twenty years.  No?  Sure?  Okay, I'm going to let it go.  For now.



Sorry, I find this hilarious. I'm lucky to be married to someone
who can appreciate my geeky sense of humor. And edit my blog.