Have you ever wondered how to spot a left-handed person in a group of people just by observing their actions? It may seem easy at first, but when it comes to analyzing small details, many people struggle to find the correct answer.
In this intriguing puzzle, we have a group of individuals engaged in different activities—a chef, a computer user, a cleaner, a waitress, a photographer, and even a squirrel! The challenge is simple: Can you identify the left-handed person just by looking at their actions?
Take a close look at the image and test your observation skills. Let’s break it down step by step and see if you can get the correct answer!
Common Mistakes People Make in This Puzzle
At first glance, many people jump to conclusions too quickly, assuming that the hand holding an object determines whether a person is left-handed or right-handed. However, hand dominance is more complex than that! Here are some common errors people make when solving this puzzle:
- Assuming that the hand currently in use is the dominant hand – Some people use both hands for different tasks, so just because someone holds an object in one hand doesn’t mean it’s their dominant hand.
- Ignoring how objects are being held – A left-handed person might hold a tray in their right hand while using their left hand for more precise actions, such as serving.
- Focusing only on a single task – Some people might appear to use their right hand more often, but their overall posture and habits might indicate left-handedness.
- Forgetting that some tasks require both hands – Writing or using a mouse might be a clear indicator of hand dominance, but tasks like sweeping or using a camera require both hands, making it trickier to determine.
With these common mistakes in mind, let’s analyze each character in the image and find the true left-hander!
Video : Puzzles: Test Your Logical Reasoning: Guess who is Left Handed?
Breaking Down Each Character’s Actions
Now, let’s carefully examine each person in the image and determine which hand they seem to prefer.
The Chef (Chopping Vegetables)
He holds the knife in his right hand while using his left to steady the vegetables. Most right-handed chefs use the knife in their right hand, making it unlikely that he is left-handed.
Verdict: He is likely right-handed.
The Computer User (Typing at a Desk)
This person is using both hands on the keyboard, making it difficult to determine dominance. Many left-handed people still use a mouse with their right hand due to default setups.
Verdict: Unclear—could be either left-handed or right-handed.
The Cleaner (Sweeping the Floor)
He is holding the broom with both hands, making it hard to determine his dominant hand. Most right-handed people place their right hand on top and left hand lower when sweeping, while left-handers may do the opposite. Without clear positioning, it’s hard to say for sure.
Verdict: Unclear, but he could be right-handed.
The Photographer (Taking a Picture of the Squirrel)
She is holding the camera with both hands, which is natural for photographers. The shutter button is typically on the right side of the camera, meaning she is pressing it with her right hand. Most right-handed people use cameras in this way, making it less likely that she is left-handed.
Verdict: Most likely right-handed.
The Squirrel (Eating a Nut)
The squirrel is using both hands, which is common for animals. Unlike humans, animals don’t have hand dominance in the same way.
Verdict: The squirrel doesn’t count as left-handed or right-handed.
The Waitress (Serving Coffee)
She is holding the tray in her right hand, which is an important clue. Left-handed people often use their right hand to carry things while keeping their left hand free for more precise actions. Since she is about to serve with her left hand, this suggests she is left-handed.
Final Verdict: The waitress is left-handed!
Why the Waitress is the Left-Handed Person in the Puzzle
There’s a simple trick to identifying left-handed people in real life: They tend to use their right hand for support and their left hand for actions requiring precision.
In this case:
- She holds the tray with her right hand to keep it stable.
- She serves with her left hand, which suggests that’s her dominant hand.
Most right-handed people would naturally do the opposite—holding the tray with their left hand and serving with their right hand.
This small but important detail reveals her true handedness, making her the left-hander in this puzzle!
Video : Who is left handed
Encouraging Readers to Engage: Did You Get the Right Answer?
Now that you’ve gone through the step-by-step analysis, did you get the answer correct? Was your first guess right, or did you change your mind after reading the breakdown?
Share your thoughts in the comments!
- Who did you think was the left-hander before reading the explanation?
- Did you notice any other small details that might indicate handedness?
- Do you have any fun tricks for spotting left-handed people in everyday life?
Solving puzzles like this is a great way to sharpen your observation skills. If you enjoyed this challenge, try analyzing people around you in real life—you might be surprised by what you notice!
Keep testing your brain with more fun puzzles, and stay curious!
I Married a Single Mom with Two Daughters – A Week Later, the Girls Invited Me to Visit Their Dad in the Basement
When Jeff marries Claire, a single mom with two sweet daughters, life feels almost perfect — except for the eerie whispers about the basement. When the girls innocently ask him to “visit Dad,” Jeff discovers an unbelievable family secret.
Moving into Claire’s house after we were married felt like stepping into a carefully preserved memory. The wooden floors creaked with the weight of history, and the scent of vanilla candles lingered in the air.
Scented candles on a table | Source: Pexels
Sunlight poured through lace curtains, scattering patterns across the walls, while the hum of life filled every corner. The girls, Emma and Lily, buzzed around like hummingbirds, their laughter a constant melody, while Claire brought a sense of calm I hadn’t realized I’d been searching for.
It was the kind of house you wanted to call home. There was only one problem: the basement.
The door stood at the end of the hallway, painted the same eggshell white as the walls. It wasn’t overtly ominous — just a door. Yet something about it pulled at my attention.
An interior door | Source: Pexels
Maybe it was the way the girls whispered and glanced at it when they thought no one was looking. Or the way their giggles hushed whenever they caught me watching them.
But even though it was obvious to me, Claire didn’t seem to notice… or maybe she pretended not to.
“Jeff, can you grab the plates?” Claire’s voice called me back to reality. Dinner was macaroni and cheese — Emma and Lily’s favorite.
Macaroni and cheese in a baking dish | Source: Pexels
Emma, eight years old but already showing signs of her mom’s determination, followed me into the kitchen and studied me with unnerving focus. Her brown eyes, so much like Claire’s, flickered with curiosity.
“Do you ever wonder what’s in the basement?” she asked suddenly.
I nearly dropped the plates.
A man holding plates | Source: Midjourney
“What’s that?” I asked, trying to play it cool.
“The basement,” she hissed. “Don’t you wonder what’s down there?”
“The washing machine? Some boxes and old furniture?” I chuckled, but my laugh came out weak. “Or maybe there are monsters down there? Or treasure?”
Emma just smiled and walked back into the dining room.
A girl walking through a door | Source: Midjourney
In the dining room, Lily, only six but mischievous beyond her years, dissolved into giggles.
The next day, I was giving the girls their breakfast when Lily dropped her spoon. Her eyes went wide and she leaped off her chair to fetch it.
“Daddy hates loud noises,” she said in a sing-song.
I froze.
A stunned man | Source: Midjourney
Claire had never said much about Lily and Emma’s father. They were happily married at one point, but now he was “gone.” She’d never clarified if he was deceased or just living out his life somewhere else and I hadn’t pushed her.
I was beginning to think maybe I should’ve insisted she tell me what had happened to him.
A few days later, Lily was coloring at the breakfast table. The box of crayons and pencils was a chaotic rainbow spread across the table, but her focus was absolute. I leaned over to see what she was working on.
A child drawing in a book | Source: Pexels
“Is that us?” I asked, pointing to the stick figures she’d drawn.
Lily nodded without looking up. “That’s me and Emma. That’s Mommy. And that’s you.” She held up a crayon, considering its shade, before picking another for the final figure.
“And who’s that?” I asked, gesturing to the last figure standing slightly apart.
“That’s Daddy,” she said simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
A smiling child | Source: Midjourney
My heart skipped. Before I could ask anything else, Lily drew a gray square around the figure.
“And what’s that?” I asked.
“It’s our basement,” she said, her tone as matter-of-fact as ever.
Then, with the unshakable confidence of a six-year-old, she hopped off her chair and skipped away, leaving me staring at the drawing.
A troubled man | Source: Midjourney
By the end of the week, curiosity had become a gnawing thing. That night, as Claire and I sat on the couch with glasses of wine, I decided to bring it up.
“Claire,” I began carefully. “Can I ask you something about… the basement?”
She stilled, her wine glass poised mid-air. “The basement?”
“It’s just… the girls keep mentioning it. And Lily drew this picture with — well, it doesn’t matter. I guess I’m just curious.”
A man sitting on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Jeff, there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just a basement. Old, damp, and probably full of spiders. Trust me, you don’t want to go down there.”
Her voice was firm, but her eyes betrayed her. She wasn’t just dismissing the topic; she was burying it.
“And their dad?” I pressed gently. “Sometimes they talk about him like he’s still… living here.”
A serious man | Source: Midjourney
Claire exhaled, setting her glass down. “He passed two years ago. It was sudden, an illness. The girls were devastated. I’ve tried to protect them as much as I can, but kids process grief in their ways.”
There was a crack in her voice, a hesitation that hung heavy in the air. I didn’t push further, but the unease clung to me like a shadow.
It all came to a head the following week.
A couple standing in their home | Source: Midjourney
Claire was at work, and both girls were home, sick with the sniffles and mild fevers. I’d been juggling juice boxes, crackers, and episodes of their favorite cartoon when Emma wandered into the room, her face unusually serious.
“Do you want to visit Daddy?” she asked, her voice steady in a way that made my chest tighten.
I froze. “What do you mean?”
Close up of a man’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
Lily appeared behind her, clutching a stuffed rabbit.
“Mommy keeps him in the basement,” she said, as casually as if she were talking about the weather.
My stomach dropped. “Girls, that’s not funny.”
“It’s not a joke,” Emma said firmly. “Daddy stays in the basement. We can show you.”
An earnest girl | Source: Midjourney
Against every rational instinct, I followed them.
The air grew colder as we descended the creaky wooden steps, the dim bulb casting eerie, flickering shadows. The musty smell of mildew filled my nose, and the walls felt oppressively close.
I paused on the bottom step and peered into the darkness, scanning for anything that could explain why the girls believed their father was living down here.
A dimly lit basement | Source: Pexels
“Over here,” Emma said, taking my hand and leading me toward a small table in the corner.
The table was decorated with colorful drawings, toys, and a few wilted flowers. At its center sat an urn, simple and unassuming. My heart skipped a beat.
“See, here’s Daddy.” Emma smiled up at me as she pointed to the urn.
A girl with an urn | Source: Midjourney
“Hi, Daddy!” Lily chirped, patting the urn like it was a pet. She then turned to look at me. “We visit him down here so he doesn’t feel lonely.”
Emma placed a hand on my arm, her voice soft. “Do you think he misses us?”
My throat closed, the weight of their innocence bringing me to my knees. I pulled them both into a hug.
“Your daddy… he can’t miss you because he’s always with you,” I whispered. “In your hearts. In your memories. You’ve made a beautiful place for him here.”
A man hugging two girls | Source: Midjourney
When Claire came home that evening, I told her everything. Her face crumpled as she listened, tears spilling over.
“I didn’t know,” she admitted, her voice shaking. “I thought putting him down there would give us space to move on. I didn’t realize they… oh my God. My poor girls.”
“You did nothing wrong. They just… they still need to feel close to him,” I said gently. “In their way.”
A couple having an emotional conversation | Source: Midjourney
We sat in silence, the weight of the past pressing down on us. Finally, Claire straightened, wiping her eyes.
“We’ll move him,” she said. “Somewhere better. That way Emma and Lily can mourn him without having to go down into that musty basement.”
The next day, we set up a new table in the living room. The urn took its place among family photos, surrounded by the girls’ drawings.
An urn on a table | Source: Midjourney
That evening, Claire gathered Emma and Lily to explain.
“Your dad isn’t in that urn,” she told them softly. “Not really. He’s in the stories we tell and the love we share. That’s how we keep him close.”
Emma nodded solemnly, while Lily clutched her stuffed bunny.
“Can we still say hi to him?” she asked.
A girl holding a stuffed bunny | Source: Midjourney
“Of course,” Claire said, her voice breaking just a little. “And you can still draw pictures for him. That’s why we’ve brought his urn up here and made a special place for it.”
Lily smiled. “Thank you, Mommy. I think Daddy will be happier up here with us.”
We started a new tradition that Sunday. As the sun set, we lit a candle by the urn and sat together. The girls shared their drawings and memories and Claire told stories about their dad — his laugh, his love for music, the way he used to dance with them in the kitchen.
A woman talking to her daughters | Source: Midjourney
As I watched them, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. I wasn’t there to replace him, I realized. My role was to add to the love already holding this family together.
And I was honored to be part of it.
Here’s another story: When a new family moved in next door, the eerie resemblance between their daughter and my own sent me spiraling into suspicion. Could my husband be hiding an affair? I had to confront him, but the truth turned out to be far darker than I imagined.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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