You've had at least one female relative who draws eyebrows on her face and they are always asymmetrical.
You spent your entire childhood thinking that everyone calls roast beef "brisket."
Your family dog responds to complaints uttered in Yiddish.
Every Sunday afternoon of your childhood was spent visiting your grandparents.
You've experienced the phenomena of 50 people fitting into a 10 foot wide dining room hitting each other with plastic plates trying to get to a deli tray.
You thought pasta was the stuff used exclusively for kugel and kasha and bowties.
You watched Lawrence Welk and Ed Sullivan every Sunday night.
You were as tall as your grandmother by the age of seven.
You never knew anyone who's last name didn't end in one of 5 standard suffixes.
You thought all women's breasts were at least a C cup.
You were surprised to find out that wine doesn't always taste like year-old cranberry sauce.
You can look at gefilte fish and not turn green.
You think the goyim are out to get you.
Your mother smacked you really hard and continues to make you feel badly for hurting her hand.
You can understand Yiddish but you can't speak it.
You know how to pronounce numerous Yiddish words and use them correctly in context, yet you don't exactly know what they mean. Kenahurra.
You have at least one ancestor who is related to your spouse's ancestor.
You grew up thinking it's normal for someone to shout "are you okay? Are you okay?" through the bathroom door if you're in there for longer than 3 minutes.
You have at least six male relatives named David.
You feel a sense of pride after seeing a Stephen Spielberg movie, but Barbara Streisand embarrasses you to no end.
Your grandparent's furniture smelled like mothballs was as comfortable as sitting on sandpaper.
You thought that speaking loud was normal.
You thought whitefish salad and lox was the quintessential party food.