I have a good proofreader’s eye. Typographical errors, misspellings and punctuation failures jump out at me. One of my favourite books is “Eats, Shoots and Leaves.” I have been known to correct errors on restaurant menus. (In spite of these (to some, insufferable) characteristics, I have some friends left. One or two even lend me pens to make the corrections.)
A related compulsion drove me to take a photograph of this unfortunate sign outside a dry cleaning establishment. I am not sure what was the point of possessing the photograph; the sign was too high up for me to get out my editorial pen (well, maybe a paintbrush would have been needed). But somehow I just needed to record the evidence.
It seems I inherited more than my mother’s bone structure and her headaches. She also passed on some deep genetic need to correct other people’s work.