I was still living at home at age 24 when they did (by going through my purse when I was asleep!). You’d think that rather than just finding a joint, they had just discovered that I was a Colombian drug lord. Dad lectured for days, and mom cried. All it resulted in was that I hid it better after that. I might add that at the time I smoked dope, I was going to college, and still managed to pull down great grades at the same time.
What’s your tale?
Well, stash not found, but my mom came home unexptecedly one afternoon when I was stoned. Eyes too red to fake it, told her I’d been crying (hard for a 17-year old guy to tell his mom THAT). Dad not fooled, I came clean, never mentioned again (they were heavy boozers, knew they were on weak ground).
My bro’s sordid tale: he was 15, getting picked up for a Dead show, had to run back into the house for something. Playfully, Mom said ‘what’re you hiding?’. “NOTHING”. Busted. She didn’t even know what a big red late-seventies bong was, took it from him, and made him promise to be careful. She thought he had a bottle of bourbon (what they did in HER day). The next day my Dad lectured him 'til he cried on how close he was coming to wasting his life, blah blah, blah. Every time Dad made another point the bong-in-a-bag got another whack with a hammer. Bro rescued the stem and bowl from the trash can. Twenty years later I can still remember the ‘crack’ of the bong on the picnic table.
Heh. I busted my mom.
It went like this. Sometime around 1978, my mom had a boyfriend who smoked a lot of pot. For some reason, he stashed about three ounces of primo Columbian Gold in our freezer, then forgot about it. Mom forgot about it, too. It was sitting right out in the open, in the freezer door.
For six years I nosed around in that freezer looking for something interesting and not finding it. Then, one day when I was about fifteen and stoned, looking for a popsicle, I realized what that fat bag of “asparagus or something” really was.
It was the crippler.
I’m not kidding, after all those years, that shit was some of the best one-hit wonder I’ve ever smoked. It was all mine, and I couldn’t get busted for it.
I saved it only for special occasions, like when Frank Gorshin was on Batman or I had to return a book to the library. I didn’t tell my friends I had it, and never took the bag out of the freezer–only buds. It lasted me over three years, until well into my senior year, when things got really dry.
About three years after that, while I was at college, Mom called me up. She was cleaning out the freezer, and noticed something missing. Did I know what she was talking about?
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said, “but I had to smoke your bag of dope.”
That pretty much ended the conversation right there.
I wrote a letter to a friend of mine detailing the great mushroom trip I had. I threw it out and my mom found it in the trash. That was not good.
Another time I came back east from colorado and had maybe an ounce plus of homegrown stinky bud. I left my p.u. truck at my folks’ house and realized I had forgotten to retrieve the stash from under the carpet under the seat as I was being driven to the train to NY. I had a sinking feeling which was borne out when my sister voluntarily cleaned out my truck. She vacuumed under the seat and guess what got stuck in the vacuum. To make sure of it’s consistency she showed it to a friend of hers - who works for the FBI. That was not good either. Fortunately the only thing that happened was that the weed was flushed, my parents weren’t told (that I know about), and I was lectured by my sister. damn.
Pot? No.
Porn? Yes. :o
Boy, did that suck.
Ditto on the porn. I guess I was 15 or so, and I had some mags and books that I kept between the side of my bed and the wall (which were pretty much flush together). The only way to get to the stash was to move the bed.
I came home from school one day and it was obvious my mom had done some thourough cleaning–moving stuff around, including the bed to vacuum underneath. I don’t see how shew could have missed it.
Anyway, she never said anything. I might have expected a “talk,” we being of the Evangelical Christian stripe, but nothing came of it. My mom is pretty cool all around.
No dope stories, alas.
My Stepfather found my pot stash where I hid it in the attic crawl space when he went up there to check the wiring. He started to give me a big lecture, threatend dire punishment etc…,when I calmly pointed out that I had taken the weed from his sock drawer.
Lecture stopped, no word to mom ever.
<Note>My stepdad is a cool guy,we get along fine</Note>
MM
My mom came home to find me stoned one evening. Fortunately she was either too drunk or too deep in denial to notice. She brought me a grinder from the restaurant she’d been at. It was perfect timing; I was just then peaking and my munchies were in full swing. I ate the 8" sandwich in four bites, getting marinara sauce all over my face in the process. Though I must say it was hard to eat with such intense giggles.
She also found my bong, but didn’t know what it was.
Hell yeah she found it, but then i never really tried that hard to hide it. She said “What’s this?”, i said “hash”, she said “Be careful”, i said “ok”. That was that. She’s pretty cool about things like that and she trusts me to be sensible. She found my stash of porn too (girls have porn! oh my god!) and she put it back where it came from, told me and we just laughed.
One time i was living with my grandparents and when i moved out i forgot about my stash in the drawer. I went back a couple of weeks later and my grandad said “you forgot something”, so i went upstairs and there was the baccy, the rizlas… and no stash. It was never talked about again. I still feel a bit guilty for stashing it in his house.
Fran
Never found, but there were occasions my parents HAD to know I was smoking pot (i.e. I was in my room smoking while my Dad was in the living room, my friend says he could smell it from outside the apartment) but they never confronted me about it.
I found my Mom’s
Back in the 70’s I was at home sick with the mumps. Since I pretty much could take care of myself my Mom let me stay home by myself. Well after the cartoons went off I got bored. I had one of those rubber super balls, and I was richochetting it off of the walls around trhe living room. Well we had these little windows on one wall on which there were vases. My ball hit one of the vases knowcking it to the floor where it shattered. On the floor is all this green grassy like stuff. No problem I get out the vaccuum, clean up the mess and forget about.
5 years later, I get home from a party stoned. My Mom notices. After telling me to be careful she mentioned how she thought my older brother had taken her stash years ago. I tell her the truth. We laugh about it now and then.