i remember when i was little and my mother was so upfront about everything, i'd ask her about everything, sex, drugs, whatever. i remember i was in the sixth grade when she told me she had smoked pot... a lot. it wasn't until after my father passed away i found out he used to traffic acid thru canada and new england. the first time i smoked i told my parents, i thought my father's jaw had disconnected from his skull. my mom acctually taught me how to roll a joint. she hadn't smoked for years, and was complaining about it one day so i pulled out a joint and we smoked. it was the weirdest thing i'd ever done. we smoke together fairly regularly now. i got her an 1/8 for her birthday this year. my father died before i got the chance to smoke with him. such is life i suppose.