My mom used to drive me absolutely crazy when I was younger by refusing to tell me how to spell words.  Instead she would force me to use the dictionary that I had to learn how to spell.  I would probably still be a bad speller if it weren’t for those years spent looking up words when other kids were getting helped by their parents.  Wait.  I’m still a bad speller.  Lets pretend I’m not for the sake of this story.  OK?

Mrs. Williams, my fourth grade teacher had a playground ball that we wanted to stake claim to.  The other students put “Mrs. Williams” on the ball.  You can bet your sweet carrot cake muffins that I had to change the spelling to have an apostrophe to convey a sense of ownership.  “Mrs. Williams'” ball ment it was hurs.  And aint nobody gonna tell me diffrent.  So their.  Why I had to be anal about that is beyond me, but it was important!  Kind of like another time when I had a lottery… but that’s different.