...when I smell:
A Bag of Marshmallows
We used to play "Run From the Cars." We wore blankets as capes, and ran up the block to the STOP sign and waited. As soon as a car came we dashed toward our front yard, barefooted and sweaty. If we could get behind our car parked on our curb before the other car passed, then we were safe. If we didn't make it behind our car, we collapsed onto the grass and covered ourselves with the blankets as the car drove by.
If I close my eyes now, I am back, safe, under my flannel blanket. My breaths are heavy and hot. I smell dew, dirt, grass. I examine the grass stain on my knee. Nothing major. I lift the corner of the blanket and peek to see if the car is gone. Phew. I stand, brush off my knee and hurry back up to the corner.