Wearing one of his mother's winter-strength headbands and his brother's hand-me-down basketball jersey, Cor flashed back and forth across the gymnasium with a smile as wide as a three-point arc. Mimicking his brother, even as his brother mimicked his (their) basketball hero, this "Little LeBron" was joy personified.

Joy is contagious. The other boys in the gym picked up on the joy and reflected it back to this boy who was significantly younger and smaller than the rest of them. The other parents watched the children chasing each other and laughing hysterically, and they absorbed and amplified the joy too. As I watched the joy and smiles spread across the oversized room, my joy and my smile became the biggest of all.

Four-year-olds can be a challenge. My Cor has a hard time sitting still for longer than 45 seconds. He makes messes in his room like a tornado on the Great Plains. He whizzes all over the inside of the toilet, the outside of the toilet, the floors next to the toilet, the walls next to the toilet, the pants around his ankles in front of the toilet... He is unashamedly self-centered when it comes to holiday gift-giving (or, from his point of view, "gift-receiving"). His emotions are untamed, like a wolverine. And at times, these less-than-ideal aspects of living with a four-year-old can overshadow everything else.

Then along comes a "Little LeBron" sort of moment, and all of the challenges are put in perspective. I love his funny faces and ferocious hugs. I love his ridiculous outfits. And even in the face of his four-year-old foibles, I love the heartfelt hangdog apologies for his "askidents."

I love my four-year-old.