Let me start by saying my husband, Mike, has been sober for almost 7 years. I did not know him when he was an addict/alcoholic, nor would I have wanted to. I have always known the man who devotes his life to helping other people recover from their addiction with his own life experiences, positive attitude and sense of humor. I would, however, be remiss in saying that I am not aware of the fact that addiction is a disease and all recovering addicts live with the possibility of a relapse if they become lax in their "program." With that said, hence goes my story...
I am getting ready for work the other morning and am preparing my clothes for the day. I do not iron. I refuse to iron. In short, I hate ironing. So every morning, I fluff my clothes in the dryer. On this particular morning I go to put my clothes in the dryer and find that Mike has left a load in there. I pull his clothes out (yes my husband does his own laundry) and place mine in, turn it on, and walk away. I return to the familiar sound of "chunga-chunk, chunga-chunk," probably a coin left in my pocket. I remove my clothes and find the culprit...a small, mis-shapen white rock and a clear baggy. What the heck is this?? I remove it and study it...Oh my god...oh...my...god...ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!!!! Is this crack? It looks like crack...ohmygod...what do I do?? Well first I look around my laundry room like some wise man is going to appear and advise me. Ok Lisa, calm down. I have never seen crack before except in episodes of "Cops," maybe I am overreacting. I go to my computer and google "Images of crack cocaine." I am hoping that there is no one monitoring my computer searches, otherwise they will find Buddhism, museums in Frankfort, Ky., and images of crack cocaine...I obviously need to be separated from society. I look at the pictures...oh my god...oh...my...god...ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! This looks just like CRACK!!!! Now what???? How could Mike have relapsed?? We still have money in the bank?? My son's XBox is still in his room?? He came home last night???? How could this be????? I will confront him. Yes, that is what I must do. I go to the bedroom where he is sleeping and hold out my hand with the rock in it, "Mike, what is this?" He looks at it curiously...picks it up and licks it. "DON'T LICK IT!!!" Can't you die from that??? He hands it back to me..."It's peppermint." WHAT???? I lick it...oh yeah...it is peppermint. Heh, heh...peppermint...imagine that. Guess I better go hit an Al-Anon meeting...my husband is obviously smoking peppermint...
