In our house at least. With the arrival of Ezra, I am now outnumbered 3 to 1 if you count Spencer our dog. This is the complete opposite of how I grew up with my poor father being the only male in the house. Besides my mother, sister and me there was also Ginger the Golden Retriever and Lovey the Diva Cat. Dad was surrounded by so much estrogen it's a wonder he made it through our teenage years without snapping at people's ankles and barking. There was always the issue of who was wearing whose shirt, who had taken mom's make-up again (Kiley) and if he was really, really sure that we didn't look fat in that dress. Good times. So now I find myself the sole representative of my gender and it's pretty interesting. I mean one of my lovely men leaves the toilet seat up all the time, one of them pees on my patio furniture and one of them pees on me. I'll let you sort out who does what. Still, I wouldn't change it for the world. It's a lot of fun to watch Ever, Ezra and Spencer playing at the park together and when we're all snuggled in for the evening on the big couch with the dog routing for left overs in the trash (lovely picture) I can't help but feel pretty darn satisfied.