You've just reached a point most stoners have to reach where your parents become aware. My mother is the most conservative woman you could imagine to meet, she looks deep into your eyes and makes you knees shake. She reminds me a lot of the mother from Malcom in the Middle. She drug tested me weekly for a year, grounding me, taking away my car, what have you, ever time I failed. The I only passed one, and it was after a tremendous effort. Eventually she accepted it wasn't going to stop and talked with me about it. I was able to make her say out loud that "alcohol is a lot more dangerous that marijuana", and she meant it. It's pretty much don't ask, don't tell now. My father though has shown me a side I never knew he had, but probably should have. He's given me weed a few times, and when we take this road trip to Seattle in March, I'm going to smoke him out. It's funny, we never really bonded until I moved out. :stoned: