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The Smell of Grass

Tonight is the evening before Thanksgiving. We’re having the big meal here tomorrow, and a family friend of ours whose husband is deployed in Iraq will be joining us for dinner. Since I’ve been home, Stephanie has been buzzing around the kitchen prepping dishes for tomorrow, doing some experimenting, and getting a jump on the cooking. We both have. It’s been kind of an anticipatory relaxed feeling all evening. The house has been filled with the smell of stuffing, the smell of stuffed mushrooms, and the smell of pot. Not pot roast. Pot.

I asked aloud, “Do I smell smoke? It smells like someone’s smoking.” Stephanie agreed, saying she thought she had smelled it earlier. I stepped in to our pantry, and the smell was that much more pronounced. The smell was in our kitchen, and not down the hall. It wasn’t coming from that end of the house; it was right here, and that meant that it was coming from right down there. Our tenants were smoking weed in their apartment.

From time to time, when we were in Abilene, I had to deal with students who were smoking pot in the dorm. I didn’t enjoy it, but there was also some drama in it, so that was something. But this is a little different. These are adults in their own space, not students. We don’t want them to think we’re judging them or being prudish.

But ultimately, this is our home. We have a family here; kids, a teenager whom we are trying lead in a different direction. The smell of pot smoke is not what we want in our home. We don’t want the smell to be lingering in our clothes, or furnishings, or our pantry when our company comes.

I called them. It was a little past eleven, but they were obviously up. She asked if the TV was too loud. I said no, but that we could smell them smoking. I asked them to stop or to take it elsewhere. She said, umm, sorry. It was short and sweet.

Which is all I wanted it to be just then. I think there will have to be a follow up conversation before the weekend is out. I’ll remind them that this is specifically prohibited in their lease, but more specifically, how it impacts us up here. That conversation will come, but we’ll all enjoy tomorrow first.

Ahhh, the pleasures of being a landlord. 

Posted on Wednesday, November 25, 2009 at 11:58PM by Registered CommenterBrian Rozell | Comments2 Comments

Reader Comments (2)

Wow, the joy allright, and yes, there need to be w follow-up especially because of the children. I for one would not know what that smell is like. Wow.
November 26, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterDad
I agree with your dad.
Do the follow up

Happy Thanksgiving Have a great day

Mary Lou & Jerry
November 26, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterMary Lou

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