After what felt to me like a month (but was in fact three days) away from home, I returned home this afternoon. I bound upstairs, grabbed my son in my arms and squeezed all the breath out of him. He beamed a huge grin at me, patted my head, then wandered off and fiddled with something else which caught his attention.
Isn't it funny? He knew I wasn't at home, but since he has no concept of time, it was no different to my having popped outside to check the mail. Well, almost. Goes without saying that I'm glad to be home.