My Dad has been getting high for my whole life. He never smoked weed around me or my siblings, he only did it outside, or late at night after everyone else was asleep. But Dad never went a whole day without getting stoned. I remember when I was very young how Dad had a friend named Kyle who would stop by once in a while. I thought it was weird, because Kyle only ever stayed for a few minutes before leaving. And he always brought a gift in a brown paper bag for my Dad. A few years later I realized that Kyle was a cannabis dealer, dropping off packages for the old man a couple times a month. When I was 18 dad accepted me as an adult, and stopped hiding his cannabis use. He never encouraged me to get high, and still never exposed me to secondhand marijuana smoke, but he stopped pretending. This signaled a change in our relationship, because I had always smoked cannabis several times myself. I had gotten high with friends, and once I had even pinched a nugget of cannabis from my dad’s secret stash when he was at work. At this point Kyle had stopped coming around the house, because the state had legalized recreational cannabis and my dad could just drive to the store to buy it. I was still too young, of course, so I broached the subject with dad about him buying extra cannabis for me when he went shopping. He agreed to get weed for me, but I had to pay for it myself.