Looking back there are a few scents that I can relate my childhood to. My father was a heavy smoker until I was about thirteen years old. Around five years old, I would always complain to my mother that the house smelled like smoke and that it gave me headaches. My mom would candles to eliminate the nauseating smell. The scented candle, cotton breeze, most dominantly sticks in my head. It had a refreshing smell to it, like clothes right out of the dryer. The more the candle burned, the more my home started to smell like a cool, spring day. It was such a relaxing smell. It made me feel happy and cozy in my home. The illuminating smell was trapped in my home until I was about thirteen years old. That year my father stopped smoking, so my mother felt no need to burn the candles anymore.
             Not only did my home smell like cotton breeze, but it also smelt of fresh chocolate chip cookies. My mom's favorite thing to do was bake my brothers and I cookies for our after-school snack. I could smell the cookies before I even walked through the door. The smell of the chocolate chips melting and the dough made me feel warm inside. It brightened up my day, put a smile on my face, and made a horrible day turn good. My mom continued to make us cookies when we came home from school until about eleventh grade, and then she started to work again. I miss the smell of the cotton breeze and the smell of the homemade cookies. Whenever I walk into another house and it smells like chocolate chip cookies or fresh laundry, it reminds me of my childhood, and the memories all come back to me.
             Not only did my house have a certain smell, but my room smelt different than the rest of the house. My mother gave me Tinkerbelle fairy dust for my sixth birthday, and my bedroom smelt like that magical dust until I ran out. The fairy dust smelled like fresh blooming flowers just picked from an open meadow. The smell made me dream of the impossible, made me ...