After that it never came up again, until I turned 18 and my dad presented me with a bag of cannabis
I remember when my dad caught me smoking pot in my room. I was 14 at the time, and dumb enough to think I could smoke a joint in my bedroom and that no one would notice. I used some Febreeze after every toke, and exhaled the smoke out the window, and thought I was a genius. I was only halfway through the joint when my dad kicked open the door and snatched the weed out of my hand. He scolded me not for smoking weed, but for doing it in the house. It turns out dad was cool with cannabis, he just had a house full of kids so he didn’t need the stink, or any possible legal hassles. Since he was holding the joint, he just started hitting it, and then I was forced to watch my dad smoke the rest of my marijuana. I guess that was my punishment, but I surely did learn my lesson about trying to smoke cannabis at home. After that it never came up again, until I turned 18 and my dad presented me with a bag of cannabis. He said it was locally grown by one of his friends, and much better than the ditch weed cannabis he had caught me with years ago. Now that I was old enough, Dad was super cool and open about being a frequent cannabis user. He had never wanted me to start using cannabis because I had seen him do it, but now that I was an adult he was looking forward to getting high with me.