Drugs Everywhere!

In my posts I have explained to you that my adoptive parents have zero tolerance for drugs or drug users. During my early years I was subjected to stringent inspections and scared straight scenarios just to make sure I stayed on the straight and narrow path.

However, once my parents began their charitable endeavors, helping everyone and their granny, the whole family dynamics got turned upside down, and so did their stance on impropriety. It seems as if the borders they had taken in the house decided that they wanted to pursue “get rich quick schemes”.

Sadly, their idea of getting rich quick involved being the purveyors of drugs. Now, although my adoptive parents are quite hip. There are certain nuances about modern day life that they have absolutely no clue about.

One day while my adoptive mother was busy participating in household chores, she smelt a really stink odor coming from one of the bedrooms. She felt for sure I was performing some voodoo ritual or burning exotic incense from some remote region of the world.

So, in her true fashion, she marched in like a bull at a ring in Madrid, “Missy, how many times do I tell you that that incense gives me a headache?”

I was startled. I looked at her as if she were a martian because I was reading and there was no incense in a 2 mile radius of me. I wasn’t even burning candles; this was one time I was in the clear.

As she went from room to room in her gestapo manner, she soon happened on what looked like a science experiment that had gone oh so wrong. There was a wet towel on the floor, the room was engulfed with smoke and a nasty odor.

Apparently whoever was playing Julia Child with crack, panicked and absconded immediately. However, they were not very good at covering their trail. Because my adoptive mother and her Ms. Marple ways never let up when she has a suspicion.

As she began rummaging through the room while opening windows, her foot had tossed over the wet towel and there was a gaping hole in the carpet. The cooking expedition had resulted in a nightmare which had the potential to exterminate the whole family.

In those moments my adoptive mother was horrified. She was ambivalent to say anything to my adoptive father because he would have warped into a Goodfella on steroids. Anyroads, she was not about to let fear take over. She confronted the individuals who were bold enough to bring drugs into the house.

They audaciously told her that if she dared said anything to anyone; or reported it to the authorities that they would put a hit on the entire family. From that day on, my adoptive parents became beholden to them, acquiescing to all their needs and wants. They felt they had my adoptive parents over a barrel.

The one element they did not count on was rambunctious me. Despite their best efforts to terrorize me on the roads and inconvenience me, eventually karma came a-knocking. Like the devil fled from heaven when God commanded him to do so, they too disappeared into thin air.