Wednesday, 15 September 2010

Cannabis Over Breakfast

I don't know why I've started appreciating the amusement in little things that happen at home...maybe it's because I might be leaving...but over breakfast lately I seem to laugh a lot.  I don't know why as there are very few things that can make me smile in the morning.

As I was making coffee I noticed that there was a bag of green stuff in a plastic food bag.  Surely it must be...nah not cannabis.  Not in my house.  Then I notice it's sat on top of a tub of flour.  Oh God, someone is going to make cannabis cakes.  My dad.  My dad cannot be doing weed in our house.

Turns out I wasn't the only one to consider it.  My friend arrived for breakfast (she was early for work and decided to pop in) and my dad joined us.  Only for them both to stare at the "cannabis" oddly and us to have to work out what it actually is.  It was basil.  My sister had decided to make a pizza at school using dried basil from a tub.  (I said no and gave her fresh basil leaves.)

What I found most amusing about this though was that not only did three grown adults decide that cannabis was a more likely thing than herbs to find in my kitchen but that my dad then went into a detailed description of his cannabis consumption.  Then my friend joined in, not thinking that it was odd breakfast conversation to be having with your friends father over Weetabix and a rather strong cup of Carte Noir instant. 

Yes he'd tried it, no it wasn't always successful, skunk in fact sent him paranoid and gave him hallucinations.  One of which involved hitting his ex-girlfriend over the head repeatedly with a spade.  "One of those big flat ones like they have in America for the snow and stuff."  I pictured the old guy brandishing his shovel in Home Alone automatically.  This kind of violence must have stuck in my mind because in a recent dream I started banging a girls head repeatedly off hard surfaces (floors, walls etc).  This is not healthy.  Clearly people should be talking to me about happy, fluffy kittens and things.  And not ones that have been shoved in a bin.

On an additional note my sister made the pizza.  The dough base was actually made from a scone recipe because according to her teacher "pizza dough takes too long".  The resulting cake pizza provided only added amusement to the entire situation.

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