A little intoxication, please ?!
Shortly before the 40th hash biscuits for the first time: Very bad idea!
Our writer took many adventures before she became a mother. Just a little hash rush that was still missing in her portfolio. Catching up on that turned out to be not that easy.
Never missed a thing, never missed a party … Actually, I always had the feeling that I had taken a lot with me before my husband, children and finally two dwarf rabbits became the focus of my life. And yet … that one missed moment does exist. Alcohol, yes, a lot and often. But drugs? Never! When the boys smoked weed in their senior year, I was suspicious. I didn’t like cigarettes, so smoking weed was canceled. But such a hash cookie? That would be something again before the 40 is on the birthday cake.
Breaking bad meets bad moms
It’s stupid alone, but my friends Ilka and Valerie are also interested. And so is the plan: We eat hash cookies together! No sooner said than done, let’s go? Uh wait, we live in a small town at the gates of Hamburg, Amsterdam is a day trip away. “Can you order them on the Internet?” I ask my friends. Rather difficult. So bake it yourself. Weren’t we just wanting to escape the mum issues ??? You want to catch up on a youth adventure and you’re back in the kitchen mixing ingredients such as flour, sugar, eggs, chocolate, grass … Oh damn, we need that too. But where do you get that from? Quite exhausting, such a mom rebellion. I try a friend with a 19-year-old teenage son. He has sources there. Condition: I have to give her some of the end product. So there are even more late bloomers looking for a midlife kick.
Drugs are used in the big city
The pastry is ready. Check! And now? When and especially where should the big feast now take place? My friend Ilka has just moved to the center of Hamburg just recently. That fits! After all, drugs are used in the big city, right? In the meantime I find ourselves terribly unspontaneous and can’t get rid of the feeling that you don’t do “something” like that. But now we’re going to do it.
Mom stays mom
The biscuits are packed in the practically lockable Tupperware jar. You can’t get your mom out of your mom. The only thing missing is the damp washcloth in the second box. This is how it goes for my friend Valerie and me with the S-Bahn to Hamburg. Whether the passengers on the train can see what we are planning today? Nobody pays us any attention. When we arrive at Ilka, we arrange the cookies decoratively. Should also have style, our late drug premiere.
Not as fun as planned
We start to feed and wait for the effect. That can take time, I read carefully beforehand. So another talk with friends: I report that Ilka’s ex now wants to move in with his new one. Valerie begins to giggle, a little dumb and inappropriately for the situation. Ilka is visibly shocked, which surprises me. Finally she left him. But we are apparently not traveling rationally here. The effect of the gossip meets the effect of the drug: Ilka sways chalk-white through the room and speaks incoherently. Valerie suddenly dies the inappropriate giggle. Worry and fear are written on her face. She babbles something about racing heart and now has the feeling that she has to inform her husband. “Honey, we just took drugs” Ilka’s husband is just unsuspecting putting the children to bed and the phone call sounds something like this: “Ole, we just took drugs here, we’re not doing well, I wanted to tell you that briefly. I’ll get back to you later! ”Then she paces restlessly through the room. I sit in my chair, feel no change and stunned watch the bizarre scenery. I imagined everything to be so funny. Thought it would end in unfounded giggles, daydreams, wild fantasy journeys. I wanted to watch Austin Powers for the first time in 20 years – maybe even funnier when you are intoxicated?
Hash cookies? Unfortunately not great!
And then it starts with me: I feel a tingling sensation in my feet, a heat that rises up to my head and suddenly this terrible racing heart as well. I too now pace restlessly up and down the apartment. This urge to keep moving is incredibly exhausting. In the background, I suspect that Valerie calls our friend Beate into the apartment to take care of us. Beate arrives with a friend what feels like hours later. Valerie will later mistake her for a drug advisor. In the meantime, Ilka is sitting over a bucket and can think about the evening once more. Again and again. Valerie is rocking back and forth, wondering if this will ever stop. She sees herself in a psychiatric hospital for the rest of her life, single parenting her husband. Beate – more of the fearful kind – starts cleaning up the crime scene. The remaining biscuits are disposed of – in a garbage can at least 5 doors away, as she assures us. I’m starting to find everything a little funny after all. But nobody participates. Too bad.
I prefer Prosecco again next time
Beate would rather call the ambulance now, which I can just prevent. I really want to spare ourselves this embarrassment. So Ole has to do it. He is ordered from the small town to Hamburg to pick up his drug-addicted wife and her friend. When he arrives, we are lying in the living room, completely exhausted. He thinks it’s funny and starts taking photos. When he then has to put his wife’s shoes on, he too is slowly getting tired. We are loaded into the car. Back to the small town, back to the children, back to the ideal world. What did we think of? Prosecco at the Italian would have done it too.