Meeting in the parking lot

To the casual observor, it probably looks like Marc and I are into drugs.
First of all, it might appear to the uninformed that we are conducting a drug buy every day at 3 p.m.
Because we are too cheap to buy a second parking pass for the month we have left to work at the Triad Center in Salt Lake, we hand off the one we own when he reports to work and I leave each day.
The nearby Subway parking lot is our rendezvous point because we can talk for a minute without backing up traffic and even exchange our daily hug. (Right now, our life is a bizarre one: I work during the day. He works at night. We visit for a few minutes at breakfast and over the phone.)
The card is a little white plastic thing so I'm sure on the security cameras, it looks a bit suspicious.

Marc and Sharon's wacky weed

Then at home, we are bagging dry parsley on a daily basis.
We have this prolific parsley plant in the backyard that produced tons of fresh parsley before it froze.
We've been bringing it in, cutting off the stems, laying the leaves out side by side on parchment and drying it in the oven for 40 minutes at a stretch.
It makes the whole house smell kind of funky and in the end we have these little plastic baggies of dried leaves that look, well, kind of like marijuana.
It crumbles up really well and is very flavorful.
I now have about a dozen bags in my food storage and I've given away a couple to children.
I'm considering giving some away as neighborhood Christmas gifts.
The question is: Do I need to include a note that specifies "This isn't your Christmas weed. Really. Go ahead and enjoy?"
(Here's the recipe: Cut parsley leaves (stems have no flavor), lay onto sheets of parchment on baking sheets, keep leaves from touching. Dry at 170 degrees for 40 minutes. Cool. Package. Crumble as needed. Store in dry, cool place.)