Six Hundred Miles Between Us and He Can Still Make Me Want to Puke

I had this conversation with my mother this afternoon as she was coming in the door after a long day at work.

Mom: Oh God. Oh God. Eeeeew. Gross, gross, gross!

Me: What?

Mom: I just walked into the living room, and there is a bottle of lotion sitting in front of the computer screen.

Me: Oh, that's just foul. Disgusting. Wrong.

Mom: Your brother was the only one home this morning.

Me: Check the history. See where he's been.

Mom: I don't want to know. I really don't.

Me: That kid is gross. I am going to puke.

Mom: No history. Jeff just checked. He said it's wiped clean, which totally means the kid was looking at porn.

Me: Don't touch that bottle. Seriously. Get some gloves.

Mom: Gross.

Me: Was it even his own lotion he was using?

Mom: No. It was the lotion from the bathroom.

Me: COMMUNAL LOTION?! He was looking at porn and using COMMUNAL LOTION from the BATHROOM? Remind me never to touch that bottle again.