There are two bars of soap beside the sink. I vaguely remember unwrapping them. One package claimed to be gentle facial cleanser. In my mind, that sounded like a soothing way to end each day. The second soap claimed to be antibacterial. After every bio-hazard that Evan creates, I NEED strong soap. One soap is green and one soap is white. Every night I stare at the two bars of soap. Green is the more soothing, natural color, but aren’t gentle things usually white? No. White requires chemicals and the green must contain some sort of aloe ingredient. Eventually I give up and pull the liquid facial cleanser from the cabinet or shrug and go to bed without cleaning my face. The other ten thousand times a day I step up to the sink I have no time to obsess over soap. I grab both bars and figure between the two, my hands will be clean enough. Maybe I need to head down to Mexico for Alzheimer’s medications.