(This memory isn't mine; it's one of Seven Answers).
My earliest memory is bathing - being bathed, really by my mother - at my grandmother's house. It's an old house and the water is heated with a coal-fired boiler. I clearly remember smelling the smoke of the fire and the sweet bubble-bath soap, a combination I don't think I've ever smelled since. I am not yet three. The reason I know this is that in the tub with me is a small plastic doll, a crying negro baby with pearly-white hair; I lost this doll shortly after my third birthday, throwing it overboard off a ferry. The memory is pure perception, I don't associate any good or bad feelings or thoughts with it.