We live in an all-girl house. The toilet seat is never up, except for cleaning the toilet. Every last one of us knows how to replace the toilet paper roll, and does it without complaining or being reminded. We dance a lot, and sing very loudly and badly to vintage 1980s Madonna songs. We tend to wander around half-dressed if we feel like it, and I'm sure that modesty is something that I'm going to have to teach the girls, since they will shuck their clothes in the living room if the mood takes them.
I was saying yesterday to Rachel that wasn't it nice to live in an all-girl house, and she replied, "But Elvis is a boy". Well, maybe chromosomally the cat still qualifies, but that's about it. She then went on to tell me, "You know, you don't really need a boyfriend, you have Elvis." Where did THAT come from? Advice from a four-year-old: date the cat.
Hmmmm, species aside, he's small, furry, toothless, and neutered. Not exactly what I was looking for in a boyfriend.