I used to love me some pot. Thought it was different than other drugs, and my soon-to-be ex-husband said he did, too. Every now and then it made me lazy, so I'd throw it out, vowing to quit. Whole eighths at times- he'd be so pissed.

I never understood why he wanted me to smoke so much. I mean, he said I was calmer stoned, and gave better blow jobs. But man, he really seemed to want me to do it.

Then one day I was sitting in my usual spot in our car port, toking a joint. I looked up and saw a strange glare- it was a surveillance camera. The bastard needed dirt on me. Why? Well, as it turns out, he was doing something much worse- meth.

So we're going through a divorce. I demanded he drug test if he wants to see the kids. He demanded I test, too. My lawyer refused. I'm pretty sure the judge took that to mean I'm tweaking, too- or maybe he thinks pot's just as bad, who knows.

Point is- my ex is a loser on 100% disability for PTSD- can't even take care of himself. And he's a tweaker. I'm a straight A student and one hell of a mom- and pot's put me in the same class as him.

Don't do it. It's not worth it. I'd do anything to go back in time and change that I ever smoked it.