It is Sunday morning and I am the first person awake.
I curl up on the couch with a good book under a blanket and read while the sun comes up through the windows.
The house is quiet for about an hour until I hear the stomps of five-year-old feet down the stairs. My son comes over to the couch, gives me a big hug and snuggles under the blanket with me.
“I will be your little boy forever,” he says to me.
I feel like a Hallmark card.
The moment will quickly pass as he starts asking science-related questions that I cannot answer without some help from the internet, and I will have to think about responsible things, like breakfast and that we will need to get dressed at some point
The idea of him being mine forever stays in back of my head all day, because the truth is that he will not be mine forever.