Dr. Mary Jane is in the House.

Last weekend I took the kids to the Adams Avenue Roots Festival to see some music. I met one of my friends at The Blind Lady Ale House – a kid-friendly pub. Seriously… it was like the Lord smiled down upon North Park. After a frosty, noon Hefeweisen accompanied by a juicy orange slice we cruised around, ate churros and roasted corn, listened to music and gawked at crappy silver jewelry.

But the day wasn’t complete until I had one of my little minions carry out a task in the name of social research. There in the middle of the street fair was a medical marijuana booth and I wondered an organization like that might handle precocious questions from kids and pre-teens who might be roaming about.

Being of curious mind, I had to find out for myself. So I shamelessly sacrificed one of my own in the name of science. I basically paid Wyatt a pack of gum to go up to the kind folks behind the table and say, “Hello. I’d like to inquire about medical marijuana.” They unceremoniously told him he had to come back when he was older. Wyatt politely thanked them, meandered his way back and promptly he hit me up for a buck to buy a pack of Hubba Bubba strawberry-flavored gum.