Opinion | Robert De Niro just had his seventh child at 79; Al Pacino is having his fourth at 83. Will these two legends ever stop competing?

In Hollywood, you are never too old to become a father.

It’s unusual. Let’s say I live to 80. On the prediction scale, I’d rank “relocates to Mars” or “wins the Norseman Xtreme Triathlon” as far more likely than, “fathers a baby.”

Can you imagine creaking into the nursery on your cane, hoping you don’t accidentally treat diaper rash with an errant tube of Voltaren Arthritis Pain Gel?

Check the schedule, baby! It’s my naptime!

But you don’t become Robert De Niro or Al Pacino by following social norms.

Now we also know why neither legend was ever tapped to pitch Trojan condoms.

Mr. De Niro made headlines this month after an interview with “ET Canada” to promote, ironically, the film, “About My Father.” At one point, interviewer Brittnee Blair started a question with, “I know you have six kids …”

De Niro corrected her: “Seven, actually. I just had a baby.”

He is 79. The stork is now arriving with coupons for the Early Bird Special.

Pacino, who starred with De Niro in “The Irishman,” “The Godfather Part II” and “Heat,” was not to be outdone in the Pampers sweepstakes. He is 83 and this week confirmed girlfriend Noor Alfallah, 29, is eight months pregnant. I apologize for the numbers larding up this column. It’s just strange to realize Mr. Pacino will need to hit triple digits in the longevity race to witness his latest child become an adult.

I don’t know much about Ms. Alfallah beyond she previously dated Mick Jagger, now 79, and was once linked to Clint Eastwood, now 93.

So she has a type. And may or may not be aroused by Metamucil.

The reaction to De Niro and Pacino staring down fatherhood once again at a combined age of 162 years — that’s older than Canada — elicited two general responses:

1. There were jokes and memes. 2. There was disapproval.

I can see why some believe it is irresponsible to bring a child into the world when you’re on the way out. But it’s different for Hollywood’s Old Dad Club. It’s not as if De Niro is closing in on 80 while driving an Uber and living cheque to cheque. That baby has an army of caregivers. That baby will be just fine, even if she has to sit on Bobby’s lap and steer while driving to the first day of kindergarten.

Live and let live. Pacino has the resources to adopt a rare Javan rhino and treat it as his fifth offspring, this one named Tubby Tony Montana. If he and his girlfriend, who is more than a half-century younger, want to start a family, that’s their business.

Why De Niro and Pacino yearn to go back to Sesame Street is on them.

What I don’t understand is why there is a membership spike in Hollywood’s Old Dad Club. Alec Baldwin is still reproducing in his 60s. David Foster had a baby two years ago at 71. Richard Gere fathered a child at 69, years after he qualified for a seniors discount at most pharmacies. Rod Stewart had his eighth child when he was 66, long after he ditched “Goodnight Moon” to backfill potholes.

We are so habituated to this narrative — I blame Charlie Chaplin, the patron saint of Hollywood’s Old Dad Club — we would now shrug if Dick Van Dyke fathered triplets.

After conquering showbiz, many randy codgers can’t stop passing on their genes.

But I fear Hollywood’s Old Dad Club is sending a mixed message to younger rich and famous males. James Van Der Beek, who starred in the coming-of-age “Dawson’s Creek,” has six kids. Jon Gosselin has eight. Eddie Murphy has 10.

I’m surprised there isn’t a reality show called “The Procreator,” in which Elon Musk and Nick Cannon spend a month on a tropical island and compete to see how many nubile contestants they can impregnate.

Meanwhile, in ageist Hollywood, female stars struggle to land roles after 40.

Years ago, I was having drinks with a friend in the Entertainment District. The server came over and asked if we would mind switching tables. De Niro and entourage were en route and had requested a section to themselves. Fine.

As I recall, De Niro sat in a banquet, his back stiffly against the wall. He didn’t say much. He looked lost in thought. He smirked and nodded politely. He seemed shy.

His body language reminded me of my dad.

But there was no hint De Niro would keep reproducing as a septuagenarian.

Again, his business. Pacino’s business. Godspeed, gentlemen. I may be puzzled as to why you did not get vasectomies when Jimmy Carter was in the White House. A mid-life crisis involves a Corvette. An old-life crisis should not involve a stroller. But I wish you felicitations and hosannas as you lug the bottle warmers out of storage.

I got a kick out of something De Niro told “ET Canada”: “You know, my kids disagree with me at times and they’re respectful. My daughter, she’s 11, she gives me grief sometimes and I argue with her. I adore her, but you know. And my youngest now, that’ll be more to come. But that’s what it is.”

This three-pronged attitude is crucial to joining Hollywood’s Old Dad Club.

1. Suck up the grief. 2. Forget. 3. Do it all over again.

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