One of my most treasured scent memories is the smell of patchouli, which reminds me of my mum.
The angriest I remember seeing her was when my sister and I smashed (by accident) a tiny vial of patchouli oil which mum had treasured for over a decade, whoops!
It was small, maybe a couple of ml, but the house smelled of patchouli for weeks.
Our mum cried because she was so upset, my sister and I cried because mum was so angry with us, our dad cried tears of laughter because he thought the whole thing was amusing, and after a few days, we all cried because the smell just would-not-go-away!
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