Very creative. Maybe TOO creative. Likes to go into other people’s offices and mess up the papers on their desks. Lousy cook.
Can fix just about anything, especially if it’s not broken yet. Has dozens of unreturned library books in his car. Mistrusts all cats. Naps during movies.
Often accused of picking fights. Last guy who said that, she punched out. Otherwise, very personable and enjoys amateur archaeology.
Has climbed most of the tallest mountains in the world. In her mind. Doesn’t especially like NASCAR or costumes featuring bright yellow. Mean to crossing guards.
As a 3rd grader, tried to overthrow his elementary school’s administration. Knits. Makes tiny little ceramic figures based on whatever mood he’s in.
Spends most weekends worrying about Mondays. Will brush your teeth if you ask him nice. Wears his underpants on the outside.
Tired of lame jokes about her last name and people who call her Babs. Once stayed up all night smoking cigars and drinking tequila with Castro’s nephew Stevie.
Kind to animals, except the ones she eats. Doesn’t have a particularly green thumb. Most of her houseplants are dead or dying, even the fake ones. Sings.
Literally counts beans and crunches numbers. We’re constantly cleaning up after her. Horrible speller.
Enjoys yardwork and throwing things out, especially someone else’s. Drives by intuition. Would like to learn to fly, but hasn’t yet been able to grow wings. Nibbles other people’s food.