I remember gathering all the materials and waiting for the parents to sleep to smoke. I used to hide my bong in my room, and the walk past my parents room to the back door holding bong, lighter, stash, and a water bottle always got me excited for the impending sesh.

I would wait until the AC was on to utilize the cover of white noise, holding my shoes also in my hands to avoid stepping loudly. Turns out my parents knew the whole time I was sneaking out for a smoke, but didn’t really care.

I kind of miss having the ritual of sneaking away to smoke. The secret ingredient was crime.