This is a story of my favorite Christmas, ever. But first it needs a little background info. My dad has been a bud enthusiast his entire life, and my mom used to smoke with him all the time. She also smoked cigarettes hardcore, and once she quit cigs she couldn't smoke anything else because it made her want to smoke cigarettes, whatever. So, I''ve grown up in a very relaxed household - I would never blatantly smoke in front of my parents / in the house while they were there, but they knew I smoked, my mom would find my pipes when I would leave them outside and put them back in my room, etc. BUT I've never smoked WITH my parents. Until Two Christmases ago. Christmas eve 2008, I'm standing outside in the dark, freezing snowing bloody cold weather trying to chief a bowl - a shame I know - and I see my dad come outside with his little wooden pipe all packed up. (For claritfication..my mom didn't want me to smoke inside because our relatives were arriving that night and she didn't want a smell around the house) So my dad sees me smoking and comes over and lights his bowl, we get to chatting about weed, and I could see he had some mid-grade stuff...not too great. My dad starts with the "In MY days..." conversation and tells me that the weed thats on the street is nothing compared to what he smoked back in the day, and how much cheaper that shit was, etc. I offer my bowl of sticky sweet northern lights to my dad and tell him to hit that shit. He looks at me, skeptically, joking that my weed is crap and he'd rather smoke nutmeg. Two hits later, my dad is SO stoned, its pitch black out but I can see his eyes are as red as the devils dick. He literally goes silent for about three minutes, hands me back the pipe and goes - " Whoa. That is some good shit." We go inside, obliterate the contents of our fridge, including some casserole my mom had made for a holiday meal (woops, she was so salty over that later), find out our relatives plane got delayed bc of a snow storm so we dont have to worry about company. We take over the living room, my dad makes a fire, my puppy gets on the couch with us, and we literally watch all the classic little kid Christmas specials on tv, while destroying a bag of chips and guacamole. I crash on the couch and wake up surrounded by presents. It was awesome. I wanna hear your stoner parent stories.
That sounds like a great day haha. One of those rare perfectly yet strange days. I have a few... but not all are about parents. The first time I smoked was with my brother(37) and a good friend of the familys. We were in my garage and I was 13. My parents were both asleep (or in their rooms?) and the friend, lets call him T, decided to roll a blunt. Now, I knew what weed was/looked like but I had never smoked it. As he lite it, I guess his eye caught mine and we both knew that I wanted a hit. Knowing my older brother is there, he nonchalantly says "take a hit." My brother starts flipping "Omg hes only 13 blah blah blah" and Im like "Whatever." and take a few drags. I didn't know how to smoke correctly so I didn't even inhale it and get high. My brother takes the blunt and goes "This is how you do it son." (haha, total change of attitude) and starts taking drags. Was a great night. First time I smoked with my mom was in my uncle's garage. We were at a party and I was 14. She already let me smoke because she was a hippie (haha) and she knew as long as I didn't abuse I'd be fine (which I am). So we just smoked a bowl in the garage and went back to the party stoned