My father used a perfume called Fahrenheit, from Christian Dior. It had a very warm, spicy scent to it. He would spray it specifically exactly right before he stepped out of the house for work in the morning.
When I was maybe four or five, my father bought me a set of video tapes of The Smurfs, the Arabic version. I was hooked immediately.
The set had seven tapes, and my father said I can open a new one every day. So, every morning I would wake up super early, excited to watch Al Sanafer.
But I had one obstacle. My father.
He would be annoyed that I was up so early. He expected me to contain my excitement and sleep in a little longer.
And so, every morning when I woke up quivering with Smurficious anticipation, I had to pretend I was still asleep until he left.
Lying down in my bed, I had only one cue that my father was about to leave.
The smell of Fahrenheit wafting slowly to my bed through the corridor. As soon as I smelled it, I knew he was out, and I could get up and watch my cartoons!
To this day, the smell of Fahrenheit perfume, which is very uncommon, sends me back to that moment and fills me with happiness.
Not just any happiness. The happiness of no longer having to pretend to be asleep, and the freedom to be a careless child watching and re-watching his favorite cartoon with no limitations.