Payback

When I mentioned my predilection for snooping in strangers' houses, I failed to mention that this is a two-way street. I snoop, and I am snooped on. In other words, I have a house that I rent out to strangers sometimes, and I assume—no, I am certain—they spend at least a little bit of time trying to figure out something about me while they're there. What does it reveal? As far as I can tell, nothing out of the ordinary: that I shop at Ikea; that I have a kid (the abundance of sand toys and...