Zach called me last week to wish me "Happy Weed Day" and to tell me that he thought of Bama .
So, on the eve of Wednesday, one Happy Mommy story.
If you don't know, my Mom was a weedie. Not as much when she got older, but yeah..
We are up on the Chemo floor one night and for some reason George starts Mom on Marinol. [I always called this Pot in a Pill. It was a win/win/win 1. Nausea Control, 2. Mood, 3. Appetite.] It looks like a little pearl. If you know how Mom was, she is in the "I am not going to take this." and "I don't know what it will do." and "Can I take half of this?". I am probably pulling my hair out at this point. I remember looking at her and saying something like .... 'I don't understand why you are in a snit over this.. It is LEGAL.. It is not like you haven't done this before.. It is LEGAL' . I am begging Mom to have a LEGAL hit.
