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I’ve got all the equipment. There’s my super-duper tiny camera. There’s my fabulous color printer. There’s my expensive photo CD program. I’ve got it all.

It’s said that taking a photograph with today’s marvelous auto-focusing technology means never getting blurred photos. I click photo after photo and most all of them are hazy. Fortunately, cameras can take hundreds of photos. It doesn’t matter if most of them are bad. They can be deleted. That done, I usually end up with one or two shots worth saving.

I have taken photos of my grandsons from the day of their births. These precious photos are all in my computer and when I get lonely or blue I switch to my picture program and remember. But that was a while ago. Now my oldest grandson, T.J., is 14 years old.

His pictures adorn my refrigerator door and the top of every piece of furniture in the house. However, all these adorable images were taken before he became a teenage clown. Ever since, my photo opportunities of getting him in a normal pose have been thwarted.

It’s not that I haven’t tried. But every time I get my camera out, he starts goofing around. Looking at recent photos of him makes me wonder whether this is the brilliant charming youngster I have been bragging about for 14 years. Perhaps he’s an imposter, or perhaps he has been taken over by an alien. Actually, he’s just a teenager in the midst of change.

His mom got so frustrated with his photo antics that she actually bought his school picture with him horsing around. I have that on my bedroom bureau with his baby pictures. The universal question is, where did that adorable boy go? He’s still adorable and sweet when he’s not being moody and grumpy. But now he’s a lanky, 6-foot boy/man. He still hugs and snuggles his face onto my shoulder like he did when I was able to hold him in my arms. Of course, now he has to bend himself almost in half to do it. He’s growing and I’m shrinking. Where will it all end?

We grandparents have sweet sentimental thoughts to cheer us on. It doesn’t matter how big our grandchildren get, they’re still our darling little guys. Well, my guy just came for a visit. I hadn’t seen him for a couple of months. That in itself is tough. In fact this is the first summer he and his younger brother aren’t staying with us.

We do miss them. But there is a time for being there and a time for being invisible. Teen years are when grandparents catch their breaths and wait for the next stage. The object then becomes making sure we’ll be there when they come out of their cocoons and become butterflies or turn into swans. We’ll be satisfied with him becoming a self-assured young adult.

There’s something quite wonderful about having your first grandchild come for a visit (and bring his mom along). She’s still the boss. But with a son whose voice is going bass and with a mustache beginning to make his face look like it needs a washing, it’s hard to keep the proud look off her face.

T.J. has always been a Mr. Fix-it. He understands how hi-tech things work. Thus, I found a way to get a good photo of him. I asked him to help me stop making blurry pictures. After taking a look at my camera, he explained what I had to do. Then, as a test, he posed for me. The result was I got a great picture of my 14-year-old grandson to hang on my fridge.

Great equipment is fine but it’s only as good as the pictures it takes.

Reach Barbara Bova at babovacolumn@aol.com