Well then, I guess I'm in the I-Had-A-Pothead-For-A-Dad Club, too! Except I guess you could say it was my fault he became one...
We had a huge vacant field behind our tract of homes where my brother and I would play in the 5-foot tall weeds every summer, making forts and mazes and whatnot. Well, one year I found a little clearing where someone had some little seedlings in a big plastic mixing bowl. So I thought I'd take the bowl home and show my folks -- they sorta looked like baby tomato plants. But the more I looked at them, the more I thought maybe they weren't really tomato plants. I showed my parents and asked them if they thought they were pot plants -- and my dad said he thought they might be. He'd just gotten into growing hydroponic veggies, so he decided to transplant the little plants into his buckets. And viola! My dad the pothead was born! Needless to say, mom was NOT happy. Especially a year or so later when she found out I'd pinched a bit here and there from dad's stash in his top drawer.
Thank goodness that's the worst she ever found out about...