Update: NOTHING IS AS IT SEEMS

Pearl has a penis.
I'll give you a second.
Now that you've recovered, I'll explain. I took the little fluff squirts in on Saturday for their "shots." I put this in quotes because I don't know what actually goes one in the back room after they take the cage of kittens away from me. The deal is: the kittens are not allowed their "shots" until they each weigh one pound. When I took them in two weeks ago, they fell short. The animal shelter staff was both shocked and impressed Saturday to discover they were closing in on two.
Don't think for a second that I'm not super into producing chubby baby animals, you animal shelter staff.
But then I asked the question. The question whose answer has rocked the very foundations of all I've been living and believing for the past three weeks- "Are we sure these are three girls and one boy?"
Read on. If you think you can handle the truth.
1. Roland:

When I stated earlier that nothing is as at seems, I didn't mean Roland. Roland remains EXACTLY as he seems. Darling, cuddly, and dim. I grow fonder every day of his matching eye and jawbrows. His eyes aren't going to be blue, it appears, but he makes up for this by devoting hours every day to perfecting the art of balancing regally in silhouette atop the armchair. (He's not nailing it.) He also debuted his meow for the first time this week and it became immediately clear that he's a three-pack-a-day kind of guy. When I first heard it, I thought they had been out of water for too long, for what else could result in that kind of gravelly growl. Nope. Another possibility is that he's been snacking on kitty litter. Eating in bed- he likes to nap in his toilet. I'll keep you posted.

2. Marianne:                                                                                                                                              

HAS A PENIS. Which is not to say I'm changing his name. All beings, shockingly unphotogenic kittens included, deserve the right to their own gender identity. Marianne is pictured above with his favorite power strip. Which he unplugs every night without fail so that I wake up each day to zero functioning electronics. I don't see the attraction. But we do not choose where we will love. Aesthetically, well, see above. But- Marianne's coat could go for millions at Christie's. Jet black with milk chocolate colored circles along the sides. If he ever once were still, I'd spend a lot of time petting him. His sides, anyway. That face is like caressing a speed bump. In the interest of full disclosure, it should be reported that he tried to suck on my earlobe this morning. Wasn't sexy.

3. Pearl:

HAS A PENIS. And has been submitting his new headshot for every production of "Hamlet" he can find. At first I thought it was for "Agnes of God" or something equally dramatic for the ladies. But then came the fateful crotch check. Still cross-eyed; don't let the photo deceive you. Though I've been staring at him a lot and I think there's a chance he only looks cross-eyed due to an overdeveloped right upper inner eyelid. Loves to purr. Part of my agenda is to apply Neosporin to his.....PENIS......in an attempt to dissaude his sister from snacking on it every chance she gets. Only topical ointments in the house right now are mustard and rose-scented cuticle cream, however, and I don't want to make things worse.
4. Dust:

I feel that a lot of the reason Dust always bears this expression is explained by the Triple Penis Surpise. Ever alarmed and immobile, Dust holds her own. Mostly by sitting on shelves her brothers have yet to notice and pretending to be a figurine. Dust is the lone kitten able to navigate the stairs, and so will soon be the lone kitten I send out for coffee.
They're big enough now to make me sneeze, so it's a great thing that I'm only a half pound away from shipping them out. Bubble-wrapped, of course.
Who wants seconds?