January 2

I don't know how your parents were when you were growing up, but mine were very open and straightforward with me about pretty much everything. They used to insist that I could ask and/or tell them anything. (The only exception to this promise, I found, was when I learned what oral sex was. Apparently that crossed into some territory that my folks weren't very keen on answering.) My dad would emphasize that he wanted me to learn from them and not from the kids on the playground. I guess he thought that there was a lot of information lost in translation from one kid's parent to another kid at recess so he wanted me to get whatever information I was looking for straight from the horse's mouth.

Somewhere along the lines of "you can tell us anything" to now, I started telling my parents everything. I have told my parents every minor detail of my life for as long as I can remember with the exception of one event; and it just so happened to involve a girl. Even then, I've come close to disclosing that fateful night on many occasions.

Just a few weeks ago, I told my parents that I had recently tried marijuana. We had just finished setting up my new apartment and they were about to leave for the 2,000-mile drive back to San Diego when we were having a conversation in my living room. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew, I was telling them how much an eighth usually sells for and where I could get it. I was describing how to hold a bowl and proper inhaling techniques.

It always feels so relieving to get information that I've withheld from them off of my chest, but it brings into question, "Where do I draw the line?" It's not like I'm on the phone as soon as something new enters my life. The pot is a perfect example. I think I first did it in June and I didn't reveal my secret until November. I have that level of comfort with them when I'm with them that everything just pours out of me.

I don't really know what my point with this is, but it makes me wonder how different this open line of communication is from other guys my age. I know that I share more information with my parents than most people, but I want to know where the average guy my age stops with the information voluntarily given to his parents. Is my relationship a luxury that others wished they possessed or is it a sign of an extremely immature mamma's boy?