My son's 20. He knows our attitude that pot ought to be legal for medical use everywhere and that, recreationally, it's not anywhere near as harmful as alcohol (except from a legal perspective). He's had careful explanations of those facts since he began being interested in medicines as a junior high student. He has always known we both smoked or tried it back in college and has known the rule was he could try it then, too.

He never had to think much further than that till my sister came to stay at our house last year while she fought cancer. Earlier this past summer with her last, futile round of chemo, she needed every ounce of help she could get with the nausea and appetite, and she and her docs (and we, her caretakers) decided it couldn't hurt her to try grass. So I came online here looking for information and, with luck, assistance. I told him honestly that's what we were doing and asked him not to share that with his pals. And he didn't.

And so when she smoked her medicinal weed, our son knew that was happening. He knew that I was about to leave my job and that I planned to try it again, too, before I returned to school. (His dad did not partake.) Our son even saw me fairly well baked one evening and enjoyed observing how giggly and silly I became.

So that was an overly long way of saying I told him everything. And that we'd worked hard to counteract the official anti-grass brainwashing from early on.