Having a live-in boyfriend (that is to say: having a boyfriend from whom you bar no holds) is like having a child...
"Don't burp at the table!"
"What did we decide about picking up after ourselves (though to be fair, the 'picking up after ourselves' part could easily read '...banking responsibly')?"
"Don't touch your crotch in public!"
...and then suddenly realizing you want to parent every silly miscreant who isn't wearing a belt.
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