Mr Baby's Grandma's Birthday

She is the same age now that her mom was when she died, 31 years ago. 31 is my "lucky" number. It snowed like crazy today. Mr Baby insisted we go out in it. I took pics, of course. He was having a great time, the lil cutie.

Later, after Nick was dropped off again, he (Nick, not Mr Baby) threw a bluubbering fit over some amcaroni and cheese I had fixed, saying I had put salt in it. Yeah, I am done, I even tried to have G straighten it out, and all he did was back Nick up. I give up. Final time. Let him turn into some asshole monster. I don't care any more. Birth parents, if you don't know the adoptive parents well, don't think you are going to find out they are normal as you go down the road with them, after you've given them a precious baby to screw up. You most likely won't find this to be the case, but that one minute mom spoils the crap out of him, then tells him he is an idiot, and then acts all surprised when he's doing second grade math in kindergarten. I simply give up. I'm not going back thru this shit.