Poor Chrissy’s mom…

c: my mom and i were looking at some jewelry the other night, looking at wedding options.
c: she’s got several different jewelry boxes and i’m looking in one of the drawers
c: and i see an old dried out cigarette
c: she used to smoke when i was little, so i’m like “what’s this?”
k: i have a feeling i know where this is going
c: “nothing, put it back”
c: “come one”
c: “it’s pot”
c: “you have a JOINT in here?”
c: “it’s older than you are”
c: “what are you doing with it?”
c: she turns bright red and says in a really embarassed tone:
c: “someone gave it to me a looong time ago and i didn’t know what to do with it, so i kept it”
c: ??
c: didn’t know what to do with it???
c: smoke up, mom!!!!
c: i sniffed it… i was trying not to know too much, if you know what i’m saying
c: poor mom was a product of the fifties…. she just doesn’t know
k: ha! thats awesome. in the end did she put it back, or throw it away?
c: no… she made me put it back
c: and when i inherit it, i’m totally keeping it
c: cut to chrissy as an old woman with her grandkids
c: “you kids see this? this joint was your great-grandma’s”
c: i don’t think i’ve ever been so proud of my mom as i was when i found a joint stashed with her jewelry