Just when you think you’ve seen it all, another thing comes along that blows your mind. In this case – literally.

“This is what we confiscated.”
“Really? ”
“9 large cans spray paint. 1 glass elephant. 1 plastic dish. 1 professional whipped cream cannister. 1 charge holder. Flick lighters – 2 in all.”
“Oooooo-kay.  You took that off both girls?”
“Yes, they said they were using the cannister to blow up balloons, but we found no balloons.”
“What would they be used for otherwise?”

What are whip cream cannisters used for?  I’m talking about the professional, make your own siphon kit that uses the little charge cartridges. They usually sell for $150+ in cooking stores, and the cartridges sell for between $1- $4 each.

Are you sitting down?  Load up to 3 cartridges in an empty siphon, put the tip to your mouth, spray and inhale. I’m told the high is intense and immediate, and more addictive to meth.  The danger is unbelievable and results in dead brain cells, permanent brain damage, and potentially – death.  This is what they’re doing.

Don’t fool yourself. I know I have. “Not my kid.” “Thank goodness my kid isn’t in to that!”  “You’d have to be stupid to try that.  My kid knows better.”

Drug addiction is a scary thing. There is really no way to know your kids are doing it until they’re in pretty deep. Google whipped cream, or whipits.  What do you see first?

Another thing to watch for is Dust off. Easier to get, less suspicious, more intense high, and again – horribly addictive. In case you don’t know, dust off is the stuff you spray on your computer to clean it out.

“Haven’t you ever heard of that mom?  Seriously!  Where have you been living?!”

“In a dark closet I guess………”

I used to judge kids, people, anyone who did drugs. I did – and that’s sucks, because now I know how it feels to be on the other side.

I never smoked anything. Didn’t drink anything of any consequence. I didn’t party either. I guess food was my vice, but that’s a different story.

My kids are good kids. They have amazing hearts, huge dreams and ambitions with desires to make a real difference. They weren’t raised on the streets, or abandoned and left on their own. They didn’t have to live in a shelter or a foster home, or a car or anywhere else that wasn’t deemed normal.  They went to the dentist, the doctor, to school, and on holidays like any other kids did. They rode bikes, sang songs, drew pictures and played outside until I made them come in to bed.

For one reason or another (that I’m not prepared to share), something strong enough happened that created a pain I couldn’t fix.

I truly can’t even let my mind wander to what the possibilities could have been. Anorexia. Self harm. Suicide. Depression. Anxiety. Drugs. They all fit together……

Ask questions. Know where and what your kids are doing. Know their friends, and listen when someone tries to tell you something you don’t want to hear.  At least investigate a little. You owe your kids and yourself that.

Do you believe in Angel’s?  If I didn’t before, I sure do now.