Whenever I smell incense, it reminds me of my friend's house from when I was a kid back in Abu Dhabi. My next door neighbour was Palestinian, and I would spent far more time in his house than I would in my own. It got to the point where I was pretty much an extended family member; and his mother (a typical mother hen figure) used to cluck about me as much as her own two sons... And scold me in the exact same way she'd scold her sons as well. My sister (Jen) used to hang out with us quite a bit, actually, and I remember their mom saying "Oh my God, Jen, I'm so glad you're friends with Rashed and Kareem! You don't know how bad it is to only have sons! They fight, they're smelly, they're loud, Ya Allah!" But anyway, they always had an incense stick burning in their house. So whenever someone burns incense I'm reminded of that time.