There is no manual, no set way to discipline or instruct, no guidelines and no test. You don’t have to wait in line for hours for a permit, it just takes five minutes to make one or two. They start off innocent and pure than learn the rest from you.
In the beginning they are tiny delicate porcelain dolls that poop, pee, and cry. Unaware of the world and subjugated to a world not their own — A view from a car seat if you will. We carry them around like pieces of luggage that we show off and everyone goes “Ohh and Ahh” till it makes a stinker, than it’s yours all over again.
As they grow older they become these little sentient asshole beings that are aware of everything. Inquiring and investing because now everything is new and they can walk now. Here is when we start lying to them with things like Santa exists and grownups know what they’re doing.
Last year I wrote a piece where I mentioned my kids asked me about the 420 in my gamertag (Miggy420) and how I worked around the question with the skill and guile of a seasoned politician. One of the comments left by a teacher suggested I should have “that” conversation with them. That conversation being about marijuana, it’s up there with sex – especially if you’re a stoner.
At the time I didn’t agree with the commentor, my little guys were 5 and 8. I protect my kids with ignorance just like the government does to us every day and like the government I watch what they see on TV and the internet. For me there’s no rush for my kids to have grown up concerns, kids should be kids.
When I wrote the piece I was living in Tucson and there was no medical marijuana. All the smoke I acquired was guaranteed to have come from Mexico so I was very careful of when I got it or where I hid it. Now, living in Seattle, Wa., life is good; every once in awhile a guy will show up with a plethora of jars each a different flavor.
When daddy’s special friend shows up we either head to my bedroom, the backroom, or if for some odd reason everything is being used usher the kids to their bedrooms with their Nintendo DS. You can’t miss the bong or pipe in my bedroom but some things kids shouldn’t see, like sex. When they’re a little older or get curious and ask we’ll talk but I doubt if they wanna see dad fucking or rubbing one out.
After living here a month I decided to talk to my oldest after I saw a D.A.R.E coloring book which said one can’t chew gum and ride a bike after smoking marijuana. Before he became a product of D.A.R.E I had to intervene. I don’t want my kids thinking I’m some sort of drug crazed maniac or that daddy is going to knock over a liquor store for a fix or worse they bring my bong in for show and tell.
I thought long and hard at when is a good age to have serious discussions with my kids and 9 is it. By 9 they don’t believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, or even Tooth Fairies and know adults are full of shit. I still won’t bring up the sex thing but leave any and all doors open for them to ask me questions because at that age I’m not their only source of information. Kids talk and then my kids become curious, I rather they learn life from me.
I dreaded having any talk with my little man but the conversation was actually quicker and less painful than I thought it was going to be, it went down something like this;
Me: “Mijo, I want to talk to you about something. You know dad smokes marijuana?”
Mijo: “Yes Dad, I’m not stupid. It’s medical though right?”
Me: “Baby, it doesn’t matter if it’s medical or not, marijuana isn’t what you think?”
Mijo: “But its medical right?”
Me: “Yes mijo but medical or not it doesn’t matter. Marijuana is just as bad as mommy and daddy’s drinking or even mommy’s cigarettes. In fact its less dangerous in some cases.”
Mijo: “Oh, okay. Can we get some ice cream?”
So there’s my drug talk. Nothing invasive or scary, I did make it clear though that he can’t tell his friends, that it’s not cool it’s just something daddy does. In return I got “I know, I know” — my kids are awesome. I do recommend though as a responsible adult, as a responsible stoner you get ready to have “that talk” with your kids.