I don't even have a couch anymore, it's been hijacked by my son and is a mess in there all the time. Always smelling like stale beer and dirty socks. I've tried to get him to use the extra bedroom but I think he thinks it's easier to get away with coming home drunk and just passing out on the couch. I live out of the trunk of my car, a chain wrapped around my office mini fridge and filing cabinet to keep them out of stuff I don't want them into. My brand new kitchen table I bought before they all moved in (most are gone but I got left with my sons) is toast. Hell I don't even have a broom anymore. The only good thing that's come out of this all is the now pampered pig I adopted from them all. With her around, they don't get away with anything, I come home and she tells me every thing they've been up to, I just have to learn pig Latin to try and understand what she's so frantically trying to tell me. I just hunch my shoulders up and down, swing my arms up in an understandable gesture trying to mimic the sound she's making, reassuring her it's alright and I got her back.