Fly Me 2 the moon

About 2.5 weeks ago I was watching Beevis & Butthead with my mate and our roomie. Of course we sparked two nice blunts to Christen the occasion. I mean we smoked any other time so you know we’d be fried for B&B, especially since it was an hour special this week. Before we knew it we were all giggling and passing joints. No incense were lit but we didn’t care.

Before long it was rounding 11 ocklock and we heard a knock on the door. The thick Caribbean accent let me know my dad had arrived, and I started to freak out a bit. Although I’m native to one of the most well-known ganja nations in the world, my parents were not cool with me being a toker. Especially since I’m a mother of two.

When I went to open the door I had to rush to light an incense stick that wouldn’t even begin to mask the smell of our hourlong extravaganza. I wasn’t too worried, tho since we’d long finished smoking.

He told me he had to talk to me and brushed off the subject although I told him to talk right then and there. I know how he is so I knew he was goin to go home, tell my mom so they could tag team us on a pointless lecture. The truth is Im not gonna give up Mary Jane any time soon.

A few days of speculation passes and they finally came over for the lecture. A few long-winded exchanges later I was being threatened with the police and child protective service. Up until this point I laughed off their hyperboles, but when it came to my children I totally flipped the script.

You see, I hate when my parents undermine my parenting. They’ve been doin this since the birth of my Kaj, and now they were taking their overbearing ways too far.

My mate and I quickly dismissed the conversation and went downstairs to vent to each other. I was so angry that I told my parents “fuck you” loud enough for then to hear. Before I knew it my dad was kicking in my door. In the midst of it all, my five month old son inadvertantly became the target, and the door almost made him its victim. Both my parents jumped in my face and threatened me, while bickering with my mate. Eventually the argument escalated to my righteous father telling me that “I shouldve died in childbirth.” That was the moment I realized my relationship with my parents were over.

After a long release and steady contemplation, my mate and I came to the conclusion that we couldn’t reside in PG county anymore. It was time to move on. We debated our options for a while and decided that it was finally time to move to California. I mean, we’d always dreamed of taking on the hustle and bustle of America’s Cannibus capital while building our businesses and getting our foot on the door. And we had a friend in Richmond so it seemed perfect.

Then, the strangest thing happened. After months of being lock-up, our Cali connect called us to let us know he was once again a free agent. The universe’s gift of this conversation affirmed our trip to Cali.

Soon we’d be selling as many of our prized possessions as we could manage, buying our tickets, and flying to the moon.