General Fiction posted October 27, 2021 |
The perils of requesting parental assistance
Not Up to Snuff
by Elizabeth Emerald
At supper tonight, I was telling my friend Chuck about the irony of committing punctuation errors in the course of "correcting" them.
It doesn't help matters that many of the rules defy common sense; it's especially maddening when proper usage per a stickler is "corrected" by an editor who punctuates in accordance with natural speech. (Amen to that.)
I recalled to Chuck the occasion on which I reworked (mainly for clarity) my daughter's paper in a nursing course.
Red ran rampant over my masterpiece.
I'd been particularly miffed by the instructor's (versus "instructor") objecting to my (versus "me") using the possessive noun/pronoun before a verb ending in "ing" (such as I did twice in this sentence). I cannot abide this rule; nevertheless, I abide by it, lest my editor cite the error.
Chuck smiled wryly whilst listening to my tale of woe; he was reminded of an amusing incident, back in seventh grade.
Danny, a classmate of his, continually slacked off; he preferred to expend his efforts on impressing the girls (alas, in vain).
Danny always managed to eke out his homework in the nick of time. Though an underachiever, Danny was bright; he maintained a B average in all his classes.
On one occasion, Danny neglected to write a history paper that was due the following day. Frantic, he implored his mother to "help" him to get it done.
After extracting his promise to buckle down for the rest of his school career, Danny's mother wrote the paper.
Two days thereafter, Danny received his grade: D-minus.
On the cover page: Numerous errors cited within; not up to grade-level.
At supper tonight, I was telling my friend Chuck about the irony of committing punctuation errors in the course of "correcting" them.
It doesn't help matters that many of the rules defy common sense; it's especially maddening when proper usage per a stickler is "corrected" by an editor who punctuates in accordance with natural speech. (Amen to that.)
I recalled to Chuck the occasion on which I reworked (mainly for clarity) my daughter's paper in a nursing course.
Red ran rampant over my masterpiece.
I'd been particularly miffed by the instructor's (versus "instructor") objecting to my (versus "me") using the possessive noun/pronoun before a verb ending in "ing" (such as I did twice in this sentence). I cannot abide this rule; nevertheless, I abide by it, lest my editor cite the error.
Chuck smiled wryly whilst listening to my tale of woe; he was reminded of an amusing incident, back in seventh grade.
Danny, a classmate of his, continually slacked off; he preferred to expend his efforts on impressing the girls (alas, in vain).
Danny always managed to eke out his homework in the nick of time. Though an underachiever, Danny was bright; he maintained a B average in all his classes.
On one occasion, Danny neglected to write a history paper that was due the following day. Frantic, he implored his mother to "help" him to get it done.
After extracting his promise to buckle down for the rest of his school career, Danny's mother wrote the paper.
Two days thereafter, Danny received his grade: D-minus.
On the cover page: Numerous errors cited within; not up to grade-level.
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