Amen to that, Irken. I'm quite sure my parents know I blaze, and here's how:

--I've come home with my friends and me smelling like weed multiple times.

--One night I was blazing in my bathroom, finished the bowl, turned off the lights, and turned on the fan. I wake up in the morning, my mom's on the treadmill in the living room (just outside the bathroom), the lights are on and the fan is off-- and there's a dime of dank sitting on the counter.

--One time I get home from school and my dad comes up to me and says, "Hey, I was just reading this book, and someone asks the main character, 'Have you ever done drugs?' And the main character responds, 'Only marijuana, but that doesn't count for a guitarist.' Pretty funny, isn't it? Don't you think that's funny?" (I play guitar, by the way).

I say, "Sure, Dad," and go about my business.

Also, my parents were huge stoners back in the day-- they went to Cornell, U of M, and UC Berkeley for grad-- and know the signs.

So, here's my plan. Once I get into college (hopefully Stanford, maybe Cornell, but most likely U of M or UC Santa Barbara), I'll just go up to them and say, "Look, guys, i have a 3.97 GPA in advanced courses, and I have guaranteed admission to a great college. I guess you should know that I've been smoking on a regular basis since the middle of 10th grade. Wanna blaze?"

To which they'll most likely respond, "We knew all along that you blazed, congrats on college; I'll go fetch my RooR!"

(I figure they probably still smoke and, knowing my parents, they wouldn't settle for less than a RooR.)