My Daughter And Drugs

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I picked the girls up from school today when the usually rather pleasant and chatty drive home took a turn down an unexpected laneway.

“I’m pretty sure I saw a guy today who got expelled for drugs,” Miss13 said…a little too casually for my liking.

I nearly shat myself. Drugs! The D word.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Good girl,” I sighed.

But naturally I saw this as an opportunity to dust off my Dad hat and speak in my more wise and less, you know, everyday voice.

“The thing with drugs is they take away choices,” I said, only having a vague idea where the hell I was heading with this. “That boy suddenly had one taken away. He got kicked out of a school where his friends where.”

“Oh, I think they all got kicked out with him,” cut in Miss13.

“Good.”

“But he’s in another school now because he had a uniform on.”

“But that’s my point,” I said, scrounging again to make one. “Is he in the school where he wants to be or the only one left available to him? You start down a path with drugs and you’re going to put up road blocks which you otherwise wouldn’t encounter.”

< Note: I’m paraphrasing here. Miss13 just read this post and apparently there were a lot more umms and half sentences at this point. >

“I’m not going to do drugs, Dad,” said Miss13 with an eye roll I’m pretty sure I’ve seen reflected in my wife’s eyes.

“Oh, good,” I mumbled, relaxing. It didn’t last.

“I don’t like the way they smell.”

“What do you…? What…? You don’t like…?” I shut my mouth for a full second to gather my thoughts. “When the hell have you ever smelt drugs?” I blurted out.

Every person at every house of every sleepover was suddenly under suspicion. There was going to be blood, I told myself, although if I’m honest it was probably going to be from the vein on my forehead bursting.

“At home,” said Miss13, and I nearly ran off the road. “Your beer smells horrible.”

“Good talk.”

I’m calling this a win for scared parents everywhere. Now if you don’t mind, I think I need a drink.

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