It kind of makes me feel dirty

I never hid the fact that I was leaving the house that evening with the sole intention of going to a friend's to make brownies whose main ingredient would be marijuana.
"Why don't you bring me home one?" my mother joked.
"I will be bringing some home," I told her, "but do you seriously want me to save you one?"
Since our conversation earlier in the year, in which (through my response) it became overwhelmingly apparent that I had partaken in recreational drug use on more than one occasion, I have been incredibly honest with my parents about the majority of my illicit activity.
I brought the brownies home later that evening, and while my mother has yet to partake, I have somehow become a supplier to my entire family. Last weekend I gave several to my aunt and today I gave one to my uncle's common-law wife. What is perhaps even more disturbing is that I did all of this in front of my Grandmother.
"Do not eat the whole thing in one sitting." I cautioned. "In fact, I am only going to give you half of one and I don't even want you to eat half of that in one sitting. And wait at least two hours before eating another one. It will take some time to kick in and you will regret the second brownie after the first one starts to work."
I never thought the day would come when I would be lecturing my aunts and uncles about proper safety precautions when it came to ingesting pot-laden brownies.