You know you are a Seattlite if you garden in the rain.

It would not have been my first choice. I don’t usually choose to weed and certainly not when it’s 50 degrees and raining, but that’s what David wanted to do, so that’s what we did. We were actually quite productive once I figured out to get him his own digging tool. We even got the huge mess of dandelions stuck in the bricks.

You know you are a Seattlite if you brake for ducks.

Of course, Make Way for Ducklings is a Boston story, but it seemed very Seattle to have 10 cars backed up so three ducks could cross the street around Green Lake. I was driving Rose and Miriam back from a playdate at Miriam’s grandparents’ house. They were being completely obnoxious—hyper, bad tone of voice, not listening. I hoped going, “Hey a duck crossing the street!” would shock them back to sanity, but what they really needed was dinner.

You know you are a Seattlite if your two year old eats sushi.

Or “hushi” as David calls it. He doesn’t actually eat the fish. He takes a salmon roll, pokes the fish out with his very own blue plastic chopsticks, dips one end in gluten-free soy sauce and takes a bite, dips the other end, and then leaves the mushed up middle on the table. For years, we had the store make special fish free sushi for Rose, but now she actually eats some salmon and tuna.

You know you are a Seattlite if your two year old has a drink order and the barrista knows it.

Ritual is very important, right? When John takes David shopping, they always bring booty, and they always get chocolate milk from the coffee stand in the store. When I took him shopping and didn’t know the ritual, the barrista told me “He gets non-fat milk in a small cup.” I don’t actually drink coffee, so I guess now they are going to have to kick me out of Seattle.

You know you are a Seattlite if you ask about everyone’s food preferences, intolerances, and allergies before planning any meal.

In the old days, when John was a vegetarian, we would either have to make a big announcement before going to a dinner party, or keep our mouths shut and hope for rice and veggies. Now, I just assume that we are going to have creatively plan around gluten-free, dairy free, and the child that will only eat pasta.

You know you are a Seattlite if you do not cross against the light ever no matter if there is nary a car in sight, it’s pouring rain, and you are late.

I was thinking about this as I waited patiently at the light and a couple, carrying umbrellas, just walked across. Get with the culture, dude!