Here are some signs you've got the Glasgow 2014 bug:
It has become entirely normal to spend your life with a label around your neck. In fact, most of the people you meet are similarly attired, like exhibits in the livestock show. It's become normal even - Kate wears hers with her Zara blazer.
You face a label in/label out dilemma. When it drizzles do you wear your accreditation label inside your jacket giving you an odd-shaped bosom or outside where it flaps irritatingly?
Clyde is as familiar as Mickey Mouse. Boy Three is very pleased with his toy Clyde and, with truly sporting enthusiasm, uses it as a javelin. He was also very, very impressed by this picture of his aunt. "Is that the real one?" he gasped. (Sentient thistle not aunt.)
You start guessing the sport by the shape and bearing of the athlete. "Nah, too short for rugby - must be hockey." "Do they look fierce enough?"
A whole new world of sport opens up. Lawn bowls is not the preserve of the beige and weight lifting is oddly fascinating.
You get over the urge to snigger at "clean and jerk" and "snatch". OK, this one's not true.
Festival, what festival? The usual mild envy of anyone within easy reach of Edinburgh and having enough leisure time to attend lots of festival stuff is absent this year.
Places like Kiribati appear on your radar. Or at least their Wikipedia pages do. Apparently it's the only country in the world likely to vanish due to global warming. Which puts our problems in perspective.
Public transport delays don't drive you to homicide. While not exactly embracing the calm of the bus queue, a certain uncharacteristic patience has descended.
You develop a fascination with the huge number of sibling pairs competing in the Games. Imagine how Scrabble-rule disputes pan out in a home where two wrestling champions live, or the idea of a gentle stroll in the home of sprinting brothers.
