The Kiwi and I would never have got together in the first place if spelling was a deal-breaker for me. When I say he can't spell, I mean he really takes bad spelling to new lows. So much so, that his very first email to me led me to comment, "Even a monkey bashing away at a keyboard would accidently spell a couple of words correctly EVENTUALLY."
I do pride myself on my spelling ability, so it was unfortunate for my sensibilities to get involved in a long-distance relationship which requires a great deal more of the written word than a local affair. Emails and text messages. A high proportion of both of which from him begin with, "Hay you". When New Zealand got knocked out of the rugby world cup, he was in morning.
I quite often imagine his struggles with predictive text, cursing it for not recognising the words he is trying to imput. "Stupid thing doesn't work!"
But with the charm of his intentions, somehow I manage to find his disastrous spelling endearing. And apparently for me, spelling is not a deal-breaker.
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1 comment:
This post made me laf. Keep 'em coming.
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