I have a minor in psychology, which obviously qualifies me to point out, well, the obvious. Oxford University is in Great Britain. King George III was British. He oppressed us, denying us representation in that jolly old club called Parliament and forcing us to buy stale Earl Gray tea that was scarcely fit for the Boston Harbor.

Your loving husband’s unconscious cannot allow him to adopt the Oxford comma because it would be a perfidious act of betrayal … a rejection of the sacrifices made at Valley Forge. Yet he loves you way too much to tell you this directly — he doesn’t want to be the one to let you know that you are dancing on the edge of treason.

As I have noted above, I have a minor in psychology and hence I am sure that you yearn for my advice. So here it is: drop everything that you are doing and run to that poor man— now! — and hug him. Acknowledge your un-American ways, and promise him that you will strive to do better in the future.

He may yet forgive you. (I wouldn’t, of course, but he might,)