Taking my grandchild's pictures to my 40th high school class reunion was like taking a knife to a gunfight. I didn't have a chance….

Granted, beautiful little Ashley Elizabeth was clearly the class of the field (perhaps I'm a bit partial here). However, some of these geezers in the Lexington High School Class of 1967 not only have over a dozen grandchildren; some even have great grandchildren. How are you going to one-up that?

Clearly, math was not my premier subject, but when I sit down and do some, it suggests that either the parents or their children might have "jumped the gun" a bit. I'm 58 years old. How is it possible for me to have great grandchildren? The voice in my head says "leave it alone Mike… just leave it alone." The answer is as old as time itself.

After creating heaven and earth, God created Adam and Eve. And the first thing He said was "DON'T!" "Don't what?" Adam replied. "Don't eat the forbidden fruit," said God.

"Forbidden fruit? We have forbidden fruit? Hey Eve...we have forbidden fruit!" "No way!" "Yes way!" "Do NOT eat the fruit!" said God.

"Why?" "Because I am your Father and I said so," God replied clearly wondering why He hadn't stopped the creation thing after making the giraffes. A few minutes later, God caught His children having an apple break, and boy, was He ticked!

"Didn't I tell you not to eat the fruit?" God asked. "Uh huh," Adam replied.

"Then why did you?" said the Father. "I don't know," said Eve. "She started it!" Adam said pointing at Eve. "Did not!" "Did too!" "DID NOT!"

Having had it with the two of them, God's punishment was that Adam and Eve should have children of their own. And thus, the pattern was set, and it has never changed.

You spend the first two years of your life teaching children to walk and talk. Then you spend the next sixteen telling them to sit down and shut up.

Grandchildren are God's reward for not killing your own children. Mothers of teens now know why some animals eat their young. Children seldom misquote you. In fact, they usually repeat word for word what you shouldn't have said.

The main purpose of holding children's parties is to remind yourself that there are children more awful than your own.

We childproofed our homes, but yet they are still getting in.

So, be nice to your kids because they'll be choosing your nursing home one day. This is clearly why women over 60 can't have children. They'd put them down somewhere and probably forget where they left them.

So as our 100 or so attendees at our reunion were standing and bragging about their progeny, I was thinking of some games we could play, like sag, you're it. Or pin the toupee on the bald guy. Or hide and go pee. Or Simon says something incoherent. We could play spin the bottle of Mylanta. But my wife's nagging advice (don't make a fool out of yourself) prevailed for once, so I sat quietly and listened to endless bragging about other people's runts.

Perhaps we geezers should pay better attention to the grand's and great grand's. Kids laugh, on average, 400 times a day. Geezers might chuckle a dozen times. My daughter-in-law, Casey, winces every time I do baby talk with Ashley Elizabeth. She thinks I'm making up words. Actually, I'm just being a geezer, slurring my words.

Ashley has her own language and she's abbreviated it to suit herself. For instance, she simply calls all dogs and cats the word dat. Might as well maximize your vocabulary.

She has my name Jiddo (Arabic for grandfather pronounce Jiddy) down pat, which ticks everybody else off because she still struggles with mommy and daddy… and forget about grandma and grandpa. We're six months away from that blah, blah, blah.

So eat your hearts out all of you. It's clear that I'm the favorite adult in her life. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.