On days like yesterday, when I woke up with a splitting headache that threatened to break my head in pieces like a dropped watermelon, when my husband left for the other side of the world before I even got out of bed, when termite poop proved we have a problem that's going to require taking down an entire wall, treating it with pesticide, and erecting a new wall, when all I want to do is sleep until I feel like a normal, non-chemofied person again, this face keeps me going.
Look at that mischief waiting to happen.
That mix of curiosity and concern.
That pure joy.
Everyone should have a Quinn when they're going through chemo. But you'll have to get your own. This one's mine.