Luke I am your father/Gregory's Pecker

I look at my 82 year old dad who is strong as an ox and still has moxy.

He can probably still get girls half his age with his Gregory Peck looks and smiling eyes.

He's virile and in shape and a man's man. No autoimmune diseases there. He's old school and women find him to be irresistible.

And then it dawns on me. It must have been Frankel, the wiltered hunchbacked pigeon toed neighbor of ours that must be my real dad. Maybe when my mother was innocently planting petunias in the garden one day Frankel snuck over and shtooped her and 15 seconds later I was conceived. He's so scrawny she wouldn't have even noticed. [had to strikethrough due to father's threats of early disembowelment]

And then it dawns on me. They must have mixed up babies at the hospital. I must be that baby who came from the fertility clinic's mix up of donors in 1972 when a crazed Rhesus monkey invaded the storage refrigerator and tainted all the supplies.

And miraculously his genetic code got to survive. Darwin would roll over in his grave if this is survival of the fittest. But anyways it explains why my genetics are the way they are and who my real dad is. And why UC/Crohn's is the legacy I received from my real dad.