I asked my mother about her recent trip to Australia. She said it was lovely: spending six weeks with my brother and sister and their respective kids. Then she paused, adopted a confessional tone, and told me a story:
"On the flight over I sat next to a 23 year old lad and we chatted and chatted and he told me his whole life story, and how he wants to be a film maker and how he's going to Australia to work on a film set. And then we disembarked and he went his way, and then, as I was waiting at the carousel he suddenly rushed up, gave me a lovely hug and rushed off again. And you know what I remember most about the whole trip is that explosion of warmth as he genuinely hugged me. Why's that Steven?"
"Because you're a real person living in the real world I guess."