A defining moment in my life, a momentous event in itself, yet small enough to not really matter to the text books of society’s future. Something that had changed my life and my views on morality, and that something was when my father found out that I had been smoking pot recreationally.
I will never forget walking into the front door of my two story home at the ripe old age of fifteen. I was already thinking I was in trouble for being home late, If only I had known what awaited me inside that door. I didn’t even make it two steps into the house before I seen my father, Folgers coffee can in hand, “come up stairs” my dad demanded. A little thing about this Folgers coffee can that I would like you to know. It was my secret stash. I had a quarter ounce of Blueberry Kush in it, a pipe, and some rolling papers, all of which in society’s eyes deemed me a drug addict. I followed my dad up the thin stairwell and into his room. “Sit down and let’s have a talk” he said. I sat on my dad’s bed, sinking into it, either because it’s so soft or because of the heavy weight of guilt on my shoulders, at this point it didn’t really matter. “What do you want to talk about?” I tried to maintain my innocence, act like I didn’t know what was in the coffee can. After all you are innocent until proven guilty in the court of law. He called my bluff and dumped the contents of the coffee can on his bed, paraphernalia planting itself in my father’s possession. I didn’t know how to react in the sudden barrage, but my dad obviously did, he unrolled the bag of pot, picked the healthiest bud that he could find, then the most amazing thing happened... My dad opened his nightstand drawer pulled out a tiki pipe, and loaded the bowl. He took a long draw off the pipe, skunky smoke poured down his throat and into his lungs, then he released it, coughing ever so slightly, and handed me the pipe. After my father and I were good and stoned he told me he was okay with me smoking pot but only if I promised I would stick to just that. That ment no drinking, no smoking cigarettes, and certainly no hard drugs. He explained that he had been smoking pot recreationally since he was fourteen, and as an adult it helped him with his back pain, and also helped him sleep on those nights that me and my two sisters kept him up. He told me pot is fun, and it does some good for a lot of people, but it’s still a drug, and just like oxycontin, has potential for abuse. Then we made a deal. If I was to smoke pot, I would do it safely, and never become a stereo-typical lazy stoner.

This experience made the relationship my dad and I now have possible. Before that day I had no idea who my dad was. I’m not sure if it was the talk we had that night, or the bowl we shared, but after that day we became comfortable with each other. My dad would come home from work and instead of going straight to his room and locking the door, he would come and sit down with me on the couch and we would talk about our day’s. He started taking me with him when he would go to the greyhound race tracks and bet on dog’s. This was really fun for me because I would tell him the dogs that I liked and he would put the bet’s in, and I’m not sure how but I won quite often. Anyways those are just a few examples of the many things my dad and I started doing together, and all of these things kept me out of trouble, and opened my eyes to what an amazing guy my dad is. He is and forever will be my hero.