Ooooh, someone in my hall uses the same soap as my father. Well, presumably my whole family uses it, since my father isn't so obsessed with any facet of his personal cleanliness (unlike Mr American Psycho...) to use a different sort of soap than the one already in the shower. It's just that no one smells quite like my father, and the scent wafting down the corridor is Eau de Dad. It's clean, and sort of no-nonsense. No fancy flowers or spices, just getting-rid-of-dirtness. It smells like scrubbed skin and meticulous, but utilitarian fingernails.

I miss my Daddy. *sniffle*