Sure, I’d be concerned if I were this person. I’d be worried that I wouldn’t be able to help my daughter with her homework once she started third grade. I’d be worried that I’m a moron who doesn’t know how to a) apostrophize, b) capitalize, or c) write a complete sentence.
But then again, I might capitalize on my ability to fail at all three in the course of a single 13-word sentence. Maybe I’d hire myself out to a grammar workbook company as a writer–of bad sentences students have to spend hours correcting, of course–earn some money, and move away from my pedophilic boyfriend. Maybe I’d eventually start my own academic workbook company, hire a whole bunch of people to write workbooks inspired by my grammatical errors, and create an empire around my illiteracy. Then I’d be totally rich and get a new boyfriend who doesn’t fantasize about my young teen daughter’s ass when I’m not around. And if I get suspicious, I could always hire people and install hidden cameras to monitor his every move.
All that would definitely be easier than learning me how to spell.