The bag appeal on Babysita was Call-Of-Duty serious: tight, frosty nugs smelling like someone dropped a bag of sour cherry gelato into a bucket of premium unleaded gasoline. Cross Lemon Cherry Gelato with LIT OG, and you don’t just get a strain—you get a full-blown caretaker.
I rolled up a solid gram, still clinging to the naive idea that I was going to smoke, get a light buzz, and handle my business for the day: run to the post office, do the dishes, write a new Dabbin-Dad blog post, and clear out my email inbox.
I took the first pull. The smoke came in rich with that sharp tart cherry and sweet, creamy citrus, immediately followed by the heavy, skunky exhale of pure OG gas. Delicious. Very flavorful.
By the third hit, the head high crept in, warm and velvety.
By the time the joint was down to the crutch, Babysita had fully clocked in.
It started with a subtle weight on my shoulders, like hands gently pressing me down onto the couch. I stood up to grab my keys for the post office run, but they just seemed really far away.
My brain offered a faint signal: Hey, we’ve got packages to drop off and dishes waiting in the sink.
Babysita immediately stepped in. “No, sweetie. You’re sitting back down. We’re not going outside, and we’re definitely not touching soapy water today.”
I tried to compromise. Okay, fine, I’ll just open the laptop, knock out a Dabbin-Dad post, and reply to those emails.
Babysita shook her head, pulled a soft blanket up to my chin, and effectively locked the front door of my motivation. “Blog post? Emails? In this state? Absolutely not. Put your head back.”
“Can I at least choose what we’re watching?” I thought, my thumb hovering over the remote.
“Nope,” Babysita whispered as my eyelids grew impossibly heavy. “You’re putting on Cheech & Chong’s Last Movie, and you’re not moving until the credits roll.”
Man… She won’t let me do anything.
The packages stayed on the counter, the dishes stayed in the sink, and the blog draft stayed blank while the inbox went completely ignored. I just sank six inches deeper into the cushions, completely incapacitated, and thoroughly taken care of.
Keep it weird,
