Dad: ...like blue vinyl seats heated in the sun, sweat and lawnmower dust, sunscreen and baseball-glove leather, shaving cream and Dow's chemicals and car oil. But on Sundays he smelled like coffee breath, cologne and ironing starch.
Mom: ...like clorox and the sweet perfume that came in the little bottle with the dove on top, and like alcohol swabs and hairspray, black pepper, and basil. Like lotion and laundry detergent and plastic on her stethescope that pokes into you when she hugs you.
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