This week on the porch it's a Friday daylight womp — kids upstairs, moms outside, Munchies Marshmallow Pie in the bowl and porch tax cookies to match. We spend three attempts trying to have a PTA conversation, and land firmly on the conclusion that you cannot be a womp mom and PTA president at the same time. We don't make the rules.

Also: Hailey woke up at 2am convinced there was a tarantula-sized spider on her wall, spent 25 minutes trapped in her own bathroom, and it was almost certainly the 15mg edible she took before bed. We both do some stoner math about how many school moms are secretly womped. The hose game gets a full rule set. And somehow the black hole house, a 1985 sitcom, and a woman watching traffic from her window all become the same conversation.

We might be the outliers. We're fine with that.

Pull up a chair. 🌿

This week on the porch Left Coast's Monster Cookies is in the rotation, and Cookie Monster cookies are on the table — because if we're smoking it, we're eating it. We open with a Reddit deep dive on Left Coast flower, debate whether we've officially escalated past normal human consumption, and somewhere in the middle of it all Hailey can no longer feel her legs.

Also: Amanda's mom has a thing for shopping baskets, a neighbor coughs so loud it can be heard from four houses away, and Mike walks out long enough to confirm that yes, we have gone too far. Again.

Plus: the bridge gets a formal gate and guest pass policy, the bingo card episode concept is born, and an out-of-this-world double womp sends us somewhere we did not plan to go.

We went too far. Whoops.

Pull up a chair. 🌿

This week on the porch we welcome our first official guest — Matteo, Hailey's husband's best friend of 40-something years and a man who has never once smoked with us until right now. We break him in properly with American Pie indica, Powder Donut for the re-up, and a round of porch tax that somehow involves actual Girl Scout cookies baked into the cookies.

We cover a lot of ground: Matteo's first time getting so high he stopped driving and just walked away from the car, the three-day edible that took both him and his wife completely out and the executive decision they made to dispose of the rest for the good of humanity, and a conspiracy theory about whether animals know that humans live inside cars. Then we get into Harper's holiday boutique spending debut — $44 budget, $15 spent, one spatula that says "Move Over Santa, Here Comes Gigi," and a singular tube of Barbie ChapStick for her sister.

Also: the bridge has structural updates, every tree has a story, and we accidentally overdid it. Again.