What a strange saying, right?
If it involves spit, we’d better think twice. Thus is the case for the phrase spitting image. It’s wrong. Why? Because how in the heck can an image spit? I mean, really — think about it.
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Apparently, I’ve been duped.
My entire life, the last meal of the day offered at our house was always referred to as dinner. Then, I got married to a man whose family refers to that same evening meal as supper. And I’ll admit that it often made me wonder: Why do some people call that nightly ritual dinner while others call it supper? Why does dinner sound more formal to me when supper sounds more casual? And why does this thought seem to remind me of an old “Seinfeld” episode?
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You’d think that since we all do it every day — day in and day out — hundreds upon hundreds of times each day, we’d all know how to spell it. It’s only one syllable, after all. How hard could it be?
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Come on. Why is this topic even necessary?
For the love of Pete, there is no …
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Ah, grammar! Were it not for grammar — and good grammar, at that — the world would surely be a heaping, chaotic mess. For without grammar, how would we humans ever be able to order a cup o’ joe properly (especially the double-double light dolce iced latte variety) or be able to sue each other with such flourish? How would we know if we were being asked about which meal we would like to order, and if we would like fries with it? And how, for Pete’s sake, would we be able to communicate our every want, need and desire to those who may be able to provide it, were it not for good grammar etiquette?
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