My daughter (25) is currently completing her master's degree in an incredibly rigorous program, and I (49) am working on continuing education requirements for my license. When possible, we work together at my place just so we can spend time together while staying productive.
Her husband (32) recently invited me over to their place, offering to make us coffee while we studied. He's been grinding his own beans and experimenting with different blends, so he was eager to share. My daughter, though hesitant about getting distracted, agreed to the idea of a little social hour, appreciating the chance to be in the same space. When I arrived, the coffee was ready in her office for all of us, and she had a little workstation set up for me. He spent a few minutes with us catching up before stepping out. The coffee was great, we got to work, and life was good.
About an hour later, he came back in, saying he felt amazing and asked how we were doing. My daughter said she felt good, and I agreed, mentioning how the coffee hadn't made me jittery which I appreciated. We worked for two hours, and then I left to meet my husband, who had just gotten off work. Later that evening, while scrolling through Instagram, I came across a meme that made me burst out laughing, and not just at the video, but the comments that followed. I was enjoying it so much that my husband chuckled and asked if I was okay. I brushed it off, saying the comments were just hilarious. But a few minutes later, while watching TV, I felt my mouth go slack and realized I was completely zoning out. That's when it hit me. I know this feeling. I'm high.
How did this happen? What did I do? I replayed the day in my mind. I had just started HRT. Was it a weird reaction? Was it something I ate? And then it clicked. The coffee.
I remembered my daughter casually offering to add a little THC syrup to my coffee after I had already started drinking it. I declined, telling her I had just started medication and didn't want to mix anything. I also remembered her husband coming back into the room, talking about how great he felt that he was trying to see if it had kicked in for me? My mind started racing. Why would he do this? He's been pushy in the past, but never like this. They've always offered things, and when I said no to gummies or edibles, they respected it. Or so I thought.
I didn't want to tell my husband yet. He would be rightfully furious, and considering their already tense relationship, it would be a blow-up for sure. Maybe I was overreacting. I decided to sleep on it and see how I felt in the morning. My chest was tight, but otherwise, I was okay. It wasn't the high itself that upset me, it was the betrayal. The manipulation. The disrespect. I didn't want to accuse anyone without proof, especially if they denied it. But I needed to know. I bought a drug test just to be sure and wouldn't you know it? Traces of THC showed up in my urine. I was heartbroken.
I don't know what to make of this. I don't know what to do. My daughter is overwhelmed with finals, and I don't want to dump this on her right now, but she needs to know. I called my mother for advice, and she told me to talk to my daughter first. Ask if she had anything to do with it. If she did, then the three of us can sit down and talk about it together. I want to share this with my husband, but I also don't want to widen the divide between him and our daughter's husband. This is not okay. I know that. But this conversation will likely erupt. Will he deny it? Probably. Will he downplay it? Almost certainly.
I took photos of the test. Thankfully, I'm not drug tested for work, but what if I had been pulled over on my way home? Just because they enjoy their THC gummies doesn't mean I have to. I've never stopped them from doing what they want, but I've been clear that at this stage in my life, I'm not interested in feeling buzzed in the middle of the day. I still can't believe it happened. Where do we go from here?
Oh no. I was mentally composing a response about how I will often find myself having a laughing attack over something on Instagram or TikTok and it's usually the comments that really set me off, totally sober. I was prepared to tell you that this is a common experience and it's because there really are some funny people out there who say hilarious things, not because we're all being secretly drugged. Then I got to the part about the test. Ugh. He definitely did it.
Your mother's advice was exactly right. Except even if your daughter didn't have anything to do with spiking your coffee, she should be there for the talk you have with her husband. When it comes to the conversation, the outline should be:
1. Here's how I know what happened -- mention the test.
2. Here's how it made me feel. (This should definitely include the words "shocked" and "violated.")
3. Here's why this is very serious to me, despite the fact that attitudes have changed about THC and despite how you may feel about it. (Talk about wanting to control what goes into your own body, potential negative reactions, etc.)
4. Here is what I need moving forward. (An apology, a guarantee that this won't happen again, and an understanding about whatever you need to feel comfortable eating or drinking at their home again, or whatever.)
As a side note, I love that you and your daughter study together. Don't stop. Just maybe bring your own coffee until your feel confident that this is revolved.
Dear Prudence,
I am in my late forties and the survivor of multiple remarriages -- family is family until the parents stop fucking. "Amy" is the stepdaughter of my former stepbrother. He and I grew up together but not close. Amy and I grew close because she chose a college near me, and we had similar interests in theater and music. Our parents got divorced the same year as my stepbrother left Amy's mom for a girl that was only seven years older than Amy. Amy did not handle this well because my stepbrother basically dropped her like a hot potato, her biological dad was gone, and her mom was a basket case. I had her move in with me -- and she is still here eight years later.
She pays rent and is pursuing a creative career that I support. We travel and have fun together. She is gay. I am not. My family finds our lives together weird. Especially my mother -- despite being Amy's "grandmother" for over a decade, she is distant to Amy and thinks I need to be a better aunt to the kids of my sister and half-sister. I finally snapped and told her my sister is a religious nut, my half-sister is raising feral brats, and we were never close unless they needed money. And maybe, just maybe look in a mirror, because she was the first one to talk a big game about kids not being replaceable, but she replaced her stepkids and stepgrandkids easily enough.
My mother is basically the one relative I am trying to keep closest to. But she isn't taking my calls. Amy is having her own issues with her mom and I don't want to burden her. I have tried therapy and got burned, even by a liberal grade-A recommended therapist. What should I do?
It sounds like you and Amy have a pretty good life as chosen (well, loosely assigned but mostly chosen) family. Given your shared history and all the broken relationships and pain that brought you together, that's a big accomplishment. I don't want you to fail to enjoy it and feel proud of it because the very people who made your life feel unstable growing up think you should be making different choices. I would even go as far as to say that their thinking your situation is "weird" is a badge of honor. Yes, it's weird in that it doesn't involve any drama or distance. But that's a good thing.
I hope I'm not repeating what a subpar therapist has said to you, but I wonder if it's worth thinking about why your mother's approval is so important to you? What if you were to just say "Yeah, I know you think I should be more involved with my half-sister and her kids, but that's not what I'm doing right now." This is the kind of statement that lets you stand up for yourself but doesn't involve a bunch of viscous insults that lead to the silent treatment. So find a way to reach your mom and tell her you're sorry for the things you said in anger. Explain that you do want a relationship with her, and that you think you can have one if you both agree to stop focusing on what the other person could be doing better.
Finally, your anger at your family is going to eat away at you and could even begin to creep into your dynamic with Amy. We don't want that. I know that finding a good therapist is an enormous hassle, but please keep trying.
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Dear Prudence,
I have some neighbors who have an 8-year-old daughter whom they let bike around the neighborhood unaccompanied. My wife is convinced this child is at risk for kidnapping and has been wanting to call CPS on them. I have only been just barely able to stop her. We live in a very safe neighborhood in the suburbs with little traffic, and as far as I am concerned, the risk to this young girl is negligible. What can I do to get through to her that this child is not in danger and that social workers have actual cases of child abuse to pursue?
You actually don't have to get through to her. She can just call, and CPS will decide whether this is worth pursuing. Spoiler: It's not. That way she'll get her response from an authority figure and you don't have to sacrifice goodwill in your relationship to convince her.
Your wife's concern for the kid is sincere, and I wonder if, after it fails to inspire any CPS activity, she can redirect it to thinking about how she might contribute to making the neighborhood a place that feels safer. Throw a block party so everyone can meet each other. Join the neighborhood watch. Put on a workshop on bike safety or self-defense. Anything other than taking the time of an overburdened, underfunded agency that's supposed to be looking out for kids who are in real trouble.
I have a friend living with me temporarily due to losing both their job and apartment. They found another job but still need to save up to get into another apartment. I am on a strict calorie-counting diet, and they know this. Yet they continue buying soda, cookies, cupcakes, chocolates, multiple containers of ice cream, bags of chips, boxes of sugary cereal, etc. -- filling up my fridge and kitchen with this stuff that presents constant temptation. It also bothers me that they're spending twice as much on groceries as I do, when they should be saving up to get their own place and give me my space and privacy back.