There's a lot of discussion about pot right now, as different states push towards legalizing it for medical or personal use. As I listen to the various arguments about health, morality, criminal justice, personal freedom they all come back to the same thing for me: Dad, Dad, Daddy. The family element is almost always missing from the debates
I don't know when my dad started to smoke. I do know that before he smokes a joint he can get antsy, angry. His temper is fast and sharp. He hit my mom when she was pregnant and that's when she left him. I was three. I also know that after he smokes, my dad is relaxed, soothed, likely to go off on dreamy tangents about colors and pictures. He was great with us when we were kids, an adventurer ready to play on our level. It's hard to deny that pot has made him a happier person.