Sometimes it’s the little things that bother me. I’m not even sure why. If someone intends to do something good, but it turns out wrong, why should that bother me?
I shared with you a couple of months back that my neighbor passed away rather unexpectedly. She was very close to my age and it took everyone by shock.
Recently her step-daughter posted a picture of a tattoo that she received in memory of her step-mother. What a wonderful tribute for a step-mother, right? I don’t even know anyone who did that for their mother. Everyone responded with words such as beautiful, wonderful, touching, etc.
She inked the words ‘Someday came too soon’ on her body. Except that she used the wrong homophone. She used to soon, not too soon. It bothered me that she used incorrect grammar without noticing. The tattoo artist apparently didn’t notice either. He certainly didn’t leave any extra room to squeeze in another o.
I wonder if anyone will tell her? Who am I to criticize her wonderful tribute to a loving step-mother? I am not even an English major. Maybe I should’ve been!?!
I wish I could see the beauty in good intentions, but I am imperfect in that way. I feel like a harsh critic, the grammar police. Why can’t I just be happy that she had such a wonderful relationship with a step-parent that she wanted to permanently etch it on her body?
Sometimes I wonder why I care so much about perfection. I just find it sad that something special could get messed up. Why should I worry about it? She had the best of intentions.