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Thank heavens for little boys, too

By: Tony Overbay, Humor Columnist
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There’s a song in the 1958 movie Gigi that says, “Oh thank heaven for little girls.” Before you get too impressed, I must credit Google for that reference. I think I heard the song on a diaper commercial once and it has stuck with me ever since. I’ve sung it to myself on numerous occasions as a father of three angelic, perfect little girls. But as I watched the PG&E man pull into my court last week while I sat with my neighbors, freshly evacuated from their home thanks to the exploits of my little boy, well, let’s just say that song rang even more true. Were any of you aware that there was a power outage in Lincoln last week? No? That’s because it only involved one house, namely another set of neighbors (and another story, not the one I mentioned earlier). I’ve routinely heard and uttered the cliché, “boys are different than girls,” but only recently have I realized how different they truly are! Not once with my girls did I have neighbors coming to my door asking if my power was out, too. Not once with my girls did I have neighbors come to my door looking for the caps to their yard drains. And I can say with a fair amount of certainty that I never had to familiarize myself with the PG&E emergency number and ask a neighboring family to evacuate their home because of something that my girls did. But I can answer with a resounding yes on all of the above from just one, blond-haired, blue-eyed, dimple-faced boy. Shall we take them in order? First, the yard drain incident. Innocent enough, a couple of little tykes pretending to be landscapers, moving grates from one yard to the next. Forgettable, to say the least. Next, the power outage. My neighbor came over to drop off a dessert, which is always welcome, and seemed surprised that we had power. She said that nothing in their home worked. She left and my oldest daughter said, “I saw the boy and his friend over on the side of their house.” The boy, who had been sitting at the table eyeing said dessert, was now suddenly absent? We opened up their power box to see that all of the breakers had been flipped from on to off. Apparently, now they were being electricians. Somewhat cute but not so funny. The boy gets a stern talking to and I am assured that the “electricians” will never apply their craft again! For a couple of days, I saw significant progress. The boy even went so far as to rat out his partner in crime while they attempted to paint a fence with Crazy Glue. He was rewarded with a Subway sandwich and I figured his Dennis the Menace days were behind him. Well, they weren’t but I guess one could argue it’s my fault. During the stern talking to, I never once told him he couldn’t take a hacksaw to the PG&E Smart Meter or bang around on top of the meter with a hammer. Yes, these things were done causing the aforementioned gas leak and the evacuation. Not so cute and not so funny but the PG&E service technician did say he finally had a unique story to tell the other guys and added that he would display the sawed and banged- up meter in the break room. With my girls, I was constantly fighting with rubber Polly Pocket dresses and trying to fit GI Joe’s pants on a Ken Doll (have you seen what Ken has been wearing these days?). At this rate, thanks to my son, it appears that I’ll finally get to learn what a bail bondsman does, unfortunately as a client, and not via a Google search when looking for a clever column starter. I’ve heard that girls are easier than boys in the beginning, but that when the teenage years hit, girls get emotional while boys ease into a steady routine of sleep, watching cartoons and eating cold cereal. Nobody told me that, in the beginning, boys would be getting into so much mischief. Somebody just rang my doorbell; does anyone know a good bail bondsman? - Tony Overbay is a 16-year Lincoln resident, marriage and family therapist intern and father of four. You can read more of his writings at www.tonyoverbay.com.