The Day I Found Snoop Dogg in My Daughter’s Bedroom

2020 was a rough year for everybody, but especially my youngest. That kid is a social butterfly through and through. Like her old man, I thrive on human connection and being around people.

As a dad, and as a fatherhood coach at LifeCoachATL, I’ve always believed in keeping my kids engaged. Since they were little, I’ve made sure they were involved in something—sports, after-school programs, anything to keep them occupied and, let’s be honest, off the streets and away from drugs.

Addiction runs deep in my family, and it was important to me as a father to do everything I could to break that generational curse.

I’d had plenty of talks with all my kids about the effects of drugs and alcohol. I never sugarcoated it. And I always said, “Look, I’m not telling you that you can never drink. But if you do, you need to be careful and watch yourself.” Because let’s be real—me telling my kids they can never touch it at all is probably unrealistic. So I wanted to be honest about moderation and consequences.

But back to Snoop—aka baby girl.

One day, in true random Sharif fashion, I was downstairs and thought, “Let me go check in on my baby.” She was 16 at the time. I strolled up the stairs, got close to her door, and immediately caught a peculiar smell. I paused. I sniffed. I waited to confirm. And then I did what any overprotective dad would do: I busted in like I was on an episode of Cops.

Now, I’m about to exaggerate this part, because it sounds better that way. When I opened that door, clouds of smoke came rolling out like it was a haunted house. I couldn’t see a thing. The reality? She was halfway out the window, blowing smoke into the breeze, thinking she was slick.

I lost it.

“What in the hell is going on up in here? Are you in here smoking? Are you smoking weed? What in the! Who in the! Get yo butt downstairs!”

Quite frightened, she scurried down the steps. And that’s when I launched into what might’ve been the most dramatic dad rant of all time:

“Baby girl, do you know where weed will end you up??? I said, do you know where weed will end you up? Out there selling coochie on the corner! That’s right! And the next thing you know, you’ll be moving on to other stuff! What were you thinking? Let me guess—you weren’t, because you’re so high!”

After about 30 minutes of me pacing the floor like a Baptist preacher mid-sermon, I decided to really drive my point home.

I started waving my arms in the air like I was catching the Holy Ghost. I pretended I was saying words but just moved my mouth silently like a bad ventriloquist. Then I started slapping my own cheeks, yelling out random things like:

“Coochie for sale! Come get your dime bags and disappointment!”

“THIS is where weed takes you—straight to the corner!”

I stomped my foot, clutched my imaginary pearls, and yelled, “Lord, not my baby selling coochie!”

She was stuck somewhere between crying and absolutely losing it laughing. And I wasn’t far behind her.

I finally told her, “Go lay down. We’ll talk about this when you come down off the clouds.”

The next day, we sat down and had a heart-to-heart. That’s what real fatherhood looks like—showing up for the tough conversations, even when they’re awkward. I told her how much I loved her, gave her a hug, and asked why she felt like she needed to smoke. We talked about the dangers, the reality of addiction, and why it mattered.

And because it was 2020—when we were all stuck in the house—I didn’t really have much more of a punishment lined up. So I did what any dad trying to teach a lesson would do: I told her to write me an essay on the effects of marijuana.

Y’all…when I tell you this essay was the most eloquent thing I’d ever read about how weed helps with anxiety and stress and why she should be smoking it—I had nothing to say. All I could do was look at her and say, “You brought up some great points, baby girl. But the bottom line is—you’re 16. And it’s illegal.”

We laugh about it now, but it was a shocker seeing her in that state of mind. Still, it was a catch-22: the world was paused, the kids were out of their routines, and they were bored out of their minds. I could have empathy and still hold the line.

We agreed she’d chill on the ganja until she finished school. And thankfully, she did.

4 Ways Dads Can Talk to Their Kids About Drug Use

Whether you’re a father raising teens or a mom trying to figure it out alone, here are a few things I’ve learned through LifeCoachATL and my own experience as a dad:

1️⃣ Lead with honesty, not fear.Be real about the risks, but don’t exaggerate so much that they tune you out. Kids today are smart—they’ll fact-check you.

2️⃣ Keep it a conversation, not a lecture.Ask questions: “What made you want to try it? How did it make you feel?” Listen without cutting them off or shaming them.

3️⃣ Set boundaries, but show compassion.It’s okay to be disappointed and to have rules. But make sure they know you still love them and you’re on their side.

4️⃣ Use humor if it helps.Sometimes the best way to break the tension is to make them laugh. Trust me—nobody forgets the “Coochie for sale!” speech.

At LifeCoachATL, I help dads navigate moments just like this—without shame and without judgment. Because fatherhood isn’t about being perfect. It’s about showing up, keeping it real, and loving your kids through every phase.

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