Yes readers, something magical happened. I am now a real grandma. Real as in, not your stereotypical granny that has coke-bottle glasses, grey hair, shrinks, and wears their hair in a bun. I am a real grandma, as in, their father and I had children at the ripe ol' age of 21 (yeah, I missed the alcohol phase of that age) and my daughter in turn had her first baby at 22 which makes me... 40 something. You can do the math if you feel inclined. But truth, if I could describe perfection, that would be my grandson. He was 10 pounds and eats like a linebacker. He is already long and going to be super tall and his face... holy molly, he has the cutest little angelic face I think I have ever seen. I am positive I cried several times while holding him and he may already think I am nuts, but he indeed is perfect. He is wicked smart, too. I am not joking. If you ask him a question, he will answer you with a yes or no head nod. I can also read his mind. "Oh, you want gr