The east coast branch of my partner's family is full of grammar fascists. One does not, under any circumstances, lay down on a bed (unless one is a coat), and ending a sentence with a preposition is something up with which they will not put.
So when, each year, my SIL sends a lovely Christmas card professionally printed with the kind salutation "Happy Holidays from the Smith's," the scream I find myself suppressing is no doubt echoing from Martha's Vineyard to Newton Center. My grammar is anything but perfect, but such apostrophe abuse is rather hard to take, even for a glass-houses type like me.
How do I gently tell my SIL (who, by the way, had access to the very best educational options) to leave the apostrophe under the tree, where she may use it for holiday gift-giving ("thanks to Santa, that new fly-fishing hat is now Karl's")? Really, the only way she could irk my in-laws more is by making a donation to the Democratic Party in their name.
(Now, wait a minute...there's an idea.)
Well, anyway, I eagerly await your learned opinion.
Possessive in Pilgrimland