Every morning, my 4-year-old son climbs into bed with me and snuggles into my body. Yesterday, while gazing up at me, he says in a croaky morning voice, "I like your face, Mom."

This is quite possibly the strangest and sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.

Once we are out of bed, he asks me, "Do I have school today?"

"No," I say. He claps his sticky hands together and says, "Yay. It's a 'Mama Day.'"

I'm quite certain that no one has ever applauded at the mere thought of hanging out with me.

On the days he does have school, when I pick him up, he sees me from across the room and immediately, his eyes widen, he shrieks a little and runs to me. "Mama," he says, burying his face in my neck. "Mama."

No one has ever been this happy to see me. No one. Not even my dog when he really has to use it.

Oh, I've made my share of Oedipus jokes, but most of the time, I find myself thinking in sappy clichés. "Can I freeze you?" I actually asked him.

Today, it is raining, and he is singing "Puff the Magic Dragon" and chattering about whether or not monkeys wear shoes and I can barely stand it. To know a 4-year-old's love and to know you will have to let go of it is almost unbearable.