I have a very acute sense of smell.  I was born this way.  With this sense, I'll associate an event, time period, location, or person with a certain smell.  And if I ever smell that specific scent, I'll immediately think of its reference. 

I'm known to be fairly unobservant.  Oh well.  But I notice smells.  That's the first thing I'll notice when I walk into a room.  Sometimes I use the executive bathroom at work.  As soon as I walk in, I'm pummeled by an almost overwhelming smell of comforting citrus.  It's beautiful.  It's not like burn-your-nosehairs Lemon Pledge or hey-everybody-look-at-me-I'm-eating-an-orange orange.  It's almost like an orange sherbert (acceptable alternate spelling of sherbet), sweet and comfortable. 

Wendy and I got in my car last night to drive somewhere.  As soon as I shut the door, I smelled a very familiar smell.  Back in high school when I played soccer, my cleats would sometimes get a little wet.  And I'd leave them in my bag or my locker.  After about 2 days, they would develop this smell that I can only describe as rotting-grass-feet.  This is exactly what I smelled in my car last night.  It turns out that Wendy's jacket had been left in a chocolate manufacturing area, and the smell of chocolate from a manufacturing plant tends to resemble baby poop.  This is a proven fact and has been stated by more than one chocolate manufacturer.  So apparently, the smell of rotting-grass-feet is the same as chocolate-baby-poop.  Interesting. #entertainment