Clintons Calling

As I am a keen observer of people and their habits (actually this is not true, I'm somewhat unaware of what's going on around me), I have documented some very uninteresting activity in order to bore you for a few long minutes.  

In our house, you can walk into a room and instantly tell which of my family members has been there.  It's not just the mess that can be found in his or her wake (which is pretty significant, believe me) but more what I like to think of as his or her "calling card".  Each one of us leaves a distinctive trail.  

Observe, if you will.  

Marina:  Each time I go into the laundry room, I find the washer door open and Mark's "dress" shoes sitting inside.  They are neatly placed, not haphazardly tossed in.  This is not just once or twice but a very regular occurrence.  Maybe she believes they need a touch up.  

Eli:  He rarely finishes his drink at a meal.  Even if there is one sip left, it goes in the fridge for the next meal.  Often, he forgets there is one already in there and we get a stockpile.
** I realize that the giant condiments in the background would lead you to believe you stumbled into Super Mario Bros' Giant World level, but no, we just shop at Sam's Club and we need an obscene amount of Miracle Whip and mustard.

Mark:  I believe my husband may live in constant fear of dehydration.  Everywhere he goes, several drinks tag along.  This is his bedside table... and this is only from the last week.  At least our toilets get a workout.  

Lily:  Wherever I go, my Nook is sure to follow.  That way, if there is a pause in conversation, I can quickly flip it open and find something more interesting to think about than what is being said to me.  I also enjoy wine.  Notice I drink it in a lowball glass (I just learned what this was called on google).  That's because I'm too lazy to hand-wash a wine glass (although the jokes on me, our new dishwasher is poop and now I have to hand-wash everything.  My poor dishpan hands.)

 Lorenzo:  Immediately after we go upstairs, Lorenzo gets to work downstairs.  He locates an unsuspecting blanket or shirt and humps the junk out of it.  I think he is a nasty little cat.  We find a blanket in this position every time we come downstairs.  I don't know what can be done to break this cycle.  Feline counseling?  Obviously he has a problem.

Fat Linda:  She can be found waiting by her bowl, licking it and begging to be fed, even if she ate five minutes before.  She is dense and obese.  Here she is caught looking dumb during her big moment.  Typical.  (I had to pause to hug her just now because I felt so bad making fun of her feeble mind).

So here we are, the Clintons... somewhat antisocial, quite a bit odd, but kind of a fun bunch, if I do say so myself.  I'm sure there are other families with weird quirks, though maybe they have enough tact to refrain from posting them on the World Wide Web.

I'll be reading my Nook if you need me.