In the 10 years I’ve been part of my wife’s family, I’ve seen my parents-in-law (married 30 years) have a total of zero fights. There is the odd disagreement, sure, but they never really argue. Not in the same way my family argues: regularly, passionately and with much gesticulating.

Which made it all the more strange to see them having an intense clash over whether or not snakes have eyelids. My father-in-law, a man who excels at retaining information but struggles to recall which parts are true or false, was sure they did. Snakes do have eyelids, he reasoned, because he had seen a snake documentary not that long ago, and at some point, someone had definitely mentioned something about their eyelids.

While your quiz of choice may vary, any serious quiz fan knows that it is this masthead’s very own Good Weekend quiz that is woven deep into the fabric of our cultural identity. Credit: Marija Ercegovac

Meanwhile, my mother-in-law, a country girl at heart who grew up on a farm, was certain they didn’t. There were plenty of snakes on the family property, she explained. Red-belly, eastern brown, pythons and adders. But not one of them had eyelids.

This stalemate went on for far too long, and it soon became apparent that, despite a lifetime of fond memories, both parties were prepared to die on this very specific Snakes Do/Do Not Have Eyelids hill.

Concerned for everyone involved, I took it upon myself to say the only thing guaranteed to neutralise the situation: “OK, guys, moving on, what is the smallest ocean in the world?”

“Easy,” said my sister-in-law. “The Arctic. Next question.”

As with so many families, no weekend catchup is complete without partaking in one of our most sacred Australian cultural rituals: the Good Weekend quiz.

(Yes, it’s worth acknowledging the Good Weekend belongs to this masthead, and while your quiz of choice may vary, any serious quiz fan knows that the Good Weekend quiz is woven deep into the fabric of our national identity.)