“Sometimes, all we want is to spend a Friday night out with the girls — flirting with the tattooed waiter at our neighborhood haunt and hopping into bed with a box of cheesy bread and a liter of Gatorade when the sun starts to rise… This becomes much more difficult when we have to answer to a boo-thing who is going to complain about the pungent cheese smell on our pillows the next time they come over.”