Hash brownies and chilled-out babies

Iavoided the alcohol, the deli foods, the dressings made from raw eggs and the cheeses made from unpasteurised milk. Then I ate a hash brownie. I was at a newsroom colleague’s 40th birthday in a swanky downtown bar. Birthday cake was handed around with advice that there was only enough for one piece each, please.

They failed to mention the chocolate slice that was brought out after.

Earlier in the evening there had been children and elderly present at the party, so I guess my guard was down.

As my husband and I made our way towards the exit, having enjoyed my piece of cake, I saw the platter of brownie on the table and helped myself to a piece. Why not? I was eating for two.

‘‘This tastes like it’s got mint in it,’’ I remarked to hubby as we headed to the door. ‘‘Or like it’s been sitting next to garlic. I don’t know what it is, it’s not very nice. It tastes like herbs.’’ Hubby spun around. ‘‘Are you serious?!’’ Uh-oh, this teetotalling pregnant woman was munching on marijuana.

A quick chat with the host confirmed what I had bitten into. The batch of mildly laced home baking had been brought to the party by the host’s hippie parents.

I rang my midwife in tears and offered to induce vomiting. ‘‘Oops!’’ she responded. There was no need, she assured me after checking in with the hospital obstetrics team. Their light-heartedness was encouraging.

I went home and chowed down on cheese toasties – not because I had the munchies, thank you – I wanted to negate any potential effects before they had the chance to enter my bloodstream. Pregnant woman’s logic.

The next day after having felt no effects, my husband and I finally had a laugh.

As hubby was cooking breakfast, ‘‘oh, can you pass me the POT?’’ And another family member, ‘‘so that’s why the baby’s so chilled out.’’

I was horrified when it happened but my indiscriminate brownie eating taught me a lesson – two in fact.

If someone tells you there’s only enough cake for only one piece each, leave it at that. Don’t trust the brownie. Having not lived through the 1970s, I wasn’t accustomed to this practice and learned my lesson the hard way.

Secondly, I discovered life is not all within my control. Life throws us curve balls. You can be as careful as you like, but you never know when you’re about to be served a cannabis cookie.

On that note, the only other time I have taken marijuana was also by mistake.

That time was as a teenager when my boyfriend at the time drove me to the beach to meet up with one of his mates who was smoking a cigarette. He passed it around, so I politely took a puff, before I discovered what was in it.

I wasn’t all that cross about that. Afterwards I remember chatting non-stop and laughing my head off on the phone to my youth leader, and Mum had cooked an exceptionally delicious roast dinner that night.

If most of us vote in favour of legalising recreational cannabis for 20-year-olds and over, we might have more cases of spiked brownie and laced cigarettes on our hands.

Or maybe not.

If it becomes legal, the temptation for covert biscuit baking and tinny rolling may not be so great. Those who partake can be sure of the strength of the dried leaves or oil they’re consuming, as suppliers will be regulated, the potency limited. You could confidently place a big bold label next to the platter of mint and garlic flavoured chocolate slice you are serving your guests.

That might be a good thing.

I still don’t want my kids smoking weed at Ngamotu Beach or consuming special cakes at parties, whether the ingredients are bought legitimately over the counter or not. I can only imagine marijuana use will increase with the drug becoming more readily available.

Legislation for medicinal cannabis use was passed last year, meaning there is now a legal defence for those who use it when terminally ill or in palliative care to manage pain. As there should be.

As for recreational use, if you don’t already, you might want to start questioning your hosts before you take a bite of the brownie.

You can be as careful as you like, but you never know when you’re about to be served a cannabis cookie.