Sometimes Its' the "Little" Things'

Label Seen at Tennessee Antiquarian Book Fair, Sewanee, TN

Question 1
Did these books belong to one kid? If so, who is that famous child whose ownership has made these valuable enough for purchase and collection? Might it not be more impressive to identify said "kid"?

Question 2
If these are not books of a single child but of children in general, then why would a book seller who, one would assume, is literate and treasures the writing in texts as well as their forms, state they are kid's books rather than kids' books?

Question 3
Did the seller purchase the shelf, books, and label all at one time from a used book store run by a punctuation-challenged owner going out of business?

Question 4 (inspired by a comment from JP on seeing said sign)
Has the writer quoted "kid's" to suggest irony or sarcasm as done with air quotes (you know, those double-digit-two-handed virtual marks made by speakers)? Are these books in fact not appropriate for a child or kid? What makes them inappropriate? Who made that judgment call?

Question 5
Does the sign make fun of a child or children or those who read like a kid, thus justifying the label "kid's"? Are the quotation marks a punctuation slap to the face? A commentary on the quality of the books themselves? If so, why has the store owner purchased them with an eye to re-sale?

Question 6
Does the label maker even know that the quotation marks and apostrophe here are nonsense? If these are "kid's" books, then they must be the (or a or some) "kid's" books. If not why aren't they "kids'" books? And if they are books suitable for kids, why aren't they just kids' books?

Lest you think I am eccentric or mad, see Apostrophe Abuse and The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks.

Its' so comforting to "know" that Im "not" alone.

Close Punctuation

I
A new term learned today from Mary Norris' "Confessions of a Comma Queen" in the February 23, 2015 issue of The New Yorker:

The New Yorker practices a "close" style of punctuation. Or, as E. B. White once put it, "Commas in The New Yorker fall with the precision of knives in a circus act, outlining the victim." (Norris, 2015, para. 32)

Commas separate or mark off sentence parts with precision and tact and art.

II
Precision isn't something we experience with Tennessee weather.

In the transitions from season to season, the parts -- temperature, humidity, precipitation, sun -- jumble together like words in a rambling sentence, which defies logic or clarity.

To wit: a high of 66 today and a predicted low of 26. Fog, rain, ice pellets. Sunshine on Friday with a high of 38 and low of 22. Then back up to 52 on Sunday.

III
In language, I like a close style, but in seasonal shifts I prefer messiness and unpredictability, so much closer to life as it is lived rather than life as it is made in words.

IV
Besides, the crocus don't mind, so why should I?