My older brother can be suckered in if you write any sort of answer about the South. Or mention black people. Doubly suckered in if you mention both. Extra points, sometimes, if you make him laugh hard enough.
My younger sister has the family perfectionist gene, which doesn't often shows itself . . . although I still remember the first time she got lower than an A in college. Somewhat distraught, but she knew nobody else in her class had gotten such high grades. (O-Chem, if you're interested--a class I've heard is just plain evil)
My dad's answers grew increasingly more easy to pick out. The man has a highly logical brain that doesn't allow for very many silly anomalies. Not that he can't be silly. He can't just do it off the cuff.
My mom voted for anything that sounded a) random, or b) just too dang funny. And I pride myself for getting one of my best reactions-ever-from my dad. We were supposed to write about "Larry Kahn"--so my Larry was a far-distant relative of Genghis Khan, who sells world-famous hot dogs. In Brooklyn. My dad couldn't breathe for five minutes.
And my brother-in-law, unsurprisingly, always went for the laugh. "Bumclock: a pocket watch kept only in your back pocket." And now I realize where I inherited any and all BS skills I may have. Also where my lack of a poker face comes from.
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