I have always cautioned my kids about doing drugs and drinking alcohol.
One afternoon, my fourteen year old son called me a hypocrite.
I was angry that he would talk to me that way. I sent him to his room and once the house quit shaking from the force of the door slamming, I realized he was right. I had been using marijuana since I was his age. I used it recreationally for years, but now, I was using marijuana for medical reasons. My parents were products of the sixties and seventies. Although they didn’t like it when we smoked in front of them, they seldom punished us. They would tell us to be discreet and be cautious of what we used. They never used hard drugs and they cautioned us about using them. I began to feel about yelling at my son for talking about recreational marijuana when I still used it. I called him downstairs and talked to him. I explained how I used medical marijuana to help with the pain in my back so I could keep walking. He remembered that I used marijuana even before I broke my back. I tried to tell him that I grew up in a different era. When I was a kid, our parents were the ones to punish us. We didn’t have a felony held over our heads and we didn’t have to worry about the marijuana being laced with something that could kill you. The police won’t take you home if you’re caught with marijuana. If my son were caught with marijuana he would go right to jail. He laughed and asked if I would get him a medical marijuana card?