You know you're an MK if/when:

(Here's my gesture towards the age-old list. Your originals are welcome too!)

· You have the perpetual urge to pick up a stick or rock and throw it at moving stuff.
· You have a mild obsession with using live targets for stick/stone throwing sorties.
· You firmly hold that “skirts” are unisex dress.
· Bata shoes and flip-flops are your footwear of choice (where bare feet are forbidden).
· You see the world through eyes twice your age.
· “Community” means people I email and skype half way around the globe.
· You have 3 or 4 international postage rates memorized.
· You can rattle off obscenities/curses/insults in 7 different languages.
· “Family” is as hard a concept to define as “Home” is.
· Fruit Loops will always be considered “imported cereal”.
· The only omnipresent accoutrement in your life is “commonwealth tea”, chai.
· You’ve spent Christmas in 16 different places.
· You dream of a goat roast for next Christmas.
· You never quite understand what all the rush is for.
· 6:45 is just as good as 6:10; they are, after all, both in the 6 o’clock hour.
· You suck at small talk yet rarely share your truest feelings.
· You prefer a loud, smoky open-air barter market to the paralysis that accompanies the presence of a vast array of neatly packaged and refrigerated food items in a climate-controlled supermarket.
· Your mental thesaurus runs three languages concurrently.
· People are impressed with your linguistic prowess—in your mother tongue. (i.e. “Wow, you speak great English…)
· Animal skins, skulls, bones, tails and sundry faunal body parts adorn your walls and shelves.
· A favorite childhood memory might involve nearly being trampled to death by a herd of giraffe. · Biblical stories of stonings evoke emotions of your own life’s experience.
· Death has a very real face.
· You test the freshness of road kill to assess its nutritional and culinary worth.
· No animal is exempt from enhancing your diet due to being “out of season”.
· Your family has received death threats.
· You are a (proud) member of a group with a higher probability of being shot at.
· You find it an embarrassing inconvenience when you’ve been in a “developed” country for some time and your feet don’t wear ¼” thick calluses because you’ve had to wear shoes.
· You can spot a foreigner by the way they walk or by the way they set their jaw/lips.
· You name your own children “odd” names that will forever be mispronounced.
· Your life’s possessions rarely exceed 3 or 4 footlockers because of your peregrine lifestyle.
· You’re always expected to be buddy-buddy with “that missionary…” (then, aside: “which country were they in honey?”)
· You memorize your passport number long before your social security number.
· You’ve learned not to say goodbye any more—you just say, “see you later…”
· An acquaintance mentions traveling to a foreign nation and you mention that you know someone there they could stay with.
· You can concoct a conflagration from zebra dung and a bird’s nest.
· A good time consists of a goat’s leg and a film canister of salt (and the fire you just beckoned with your bare hands).