What it's all about

One day last week my old whiplash injury reared its ugly head while I was at work. I couldn't even drive home. I phoned Bec to come pick me up. She and Quinn arrived and I got in the back seat alongside Quinn. Apparently he was at the end of his rope, and his lip was extended in full quivering pout. But when I in my pain, and Quinn in his throes, caught sight of one another, we both broke into big grins. Somehow our respective problems seemed diminished.

I guess that's what it's all about.