I figured it would be so predictable to blog on National Grammar Day, so I didn’t. Instead, I decided to post on the day after.
Sometimes, just for poops and giggles, I tap into my inner New York voice. (I’m allowed to; I grew up on Long G’island.) So, my husband and I were talking about National Grammar Day, ’cause we’re both word geeks, even though he at least balances that by being a veterinarian. I was telling him how, in junior high, we wrote letters to our friends during homeroom and study hall, and I distinctly recall saying I had a gramma test coming up. I think we actually believed that was how to spell it.
My husband said to me, “Did you mean ‘grandma?'”
“Yes, Mark, I was telling my friend that I had a grandma test coming up. Seriously?”
I guess only a native New Yawka can appreciate this…