Help, me. Pleas.

   I am a woman who prides myself in knowing the difference between there, their, and they're.  I scoff at stationery stores that hawk their wares as being immobile and I love to brag about the fact that I was the  school district spelling champion in fourth grade.

 There's no two ways about it:  I am a grammar snob.

I feel certain that if it weren't for my lucrative career as a prolific blogger, that I easily could have been a bigwig magazine editor.   Reader's Digest, Highlights, Ranger Rick.  I could take over the world.

But then, I got a reality check.

I was sitting in Emma's classroom sorting through piles of homework for her teacher, when the teacher began a lecture about the proper usage of commas.

I smiled smugly as he taught them about how to list objects in a sentence,  and to separate the city and state in addresses.  Dates, two adjectives in a row,  introductory words....got it.

But then he started babbling on about interrupters, weak clauses, and conjunctive phrases and I realized I don't know beans about commas.   Or grammar for that matter.

Good, buy Reader's Digest.  I'm going back two, third grade, too learn about, conjunctivitis.

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