Although I'm usually wary of devising rubrics that divide people into distinct "types" (partly because it makes me feel like a quiz in Teen magazine, partly because I'm far too self-conscious of which camp I fall into), my recent sojourn homeward has spurred me to develop the following schema.
There are, I believe, two types of Suburban Families*:
Since most of my family's habits fall into the latter group, I've always assumed we were a Suburban Family of the classier class. While rifling through the meager remnants of my childhood that my mother saved, however, I came across a skeleton in our (literal) closet that swung us over to the wrong side of the tracks. A particularly glamorous skeleton....
No, that's not a capuchin monkey--that's little erc!! What the hell were my parents thinking?! I seemed to have repressed the memory of partaking in the sordid deed, but taking glamour shots--or school pictures that use "laser effects" backgrounds--is the defining characteristic of the first kind of family. Especially glamour shots as bad as this one, where I seem to be auditioning for a role as Christina Ricci's understudy in Black Snake Moan.
*As of late, I've noticed an alarming tendency in my writing to use Capitalization as a lazy invocation of Quirkiness. Note to self: Salman Rushdie called, he wants his stylistic devices back.