My life would be nothing without this a-hole kid

It's been a while, and I'm going to be sorry later that I didn't keep up with this to memorialize every month of my child's life. But life gets in the way!
Jett is almost 4. Maybe 33 lbs, 3' 3" and loves smoothies, berries, hotdogs and yogurt-covered raisins.
He was kind if an a-hole tonight. Had a little girlfriend over, but, while he had some shining, caring moments, was not all that generous or nice or tolerant of her. He's a bit of a stereotypical only-child 3-year-old, where sharing on his turf is like a cruel and unusual punishment. 'You want me to do what? But the whole basement is mine, right?' He's kind of a snotty little jerk a lot actually, but that might be the age, or Kenny's influence, or the only-child thing, or a killer combo of all three, but he's definitely testing boundaries. Sometimes it's comical. 'No, Jett, you don't make the rules.' Other times, it's downright infuriating and you just want to chuck a kid. But you don't and he moves on and you move on and everyone lives to fight another day.
Tonight he fell asleep in my arms. I'd just finished stories and motioned to leave when he asked that I cuddle for another minute. We were on our side facing each other and he took me head in both his hands and stared at me, then told me my hair needed to be brushed. Sweetheart. Then he smoothed it down and corrected himself that it looked fine. Thanks, Jett. Then he placed an arm over my arm and his other arm under my neck and my lips were resting against his forehead and it was just the perfect embrace. I was thinking to myself looking at the side of his perfect head how crazy it was that I'd made this person clinging to me now, when he shuddered as if falling. Which almost made me cry - that's what Kenny does every night, like clockwork. Like father, like son; they both literally "fall" asleep. So friggin cute. And just like that, his breathing got slower, then quickened, then deep mouth breathing, and I could have stayed like that for eternity. Except that I needed to lock doors and turn off lights and all that end-of-the-night stuff.
And all is forgiven. This kid is the best thing in my life, and on days, the worst thing. But that's what being a parent is like I guess. You love and hate these people in your life. Which makes you feel like a completely insane person with your signifying swing of emotions, but hey, all the other moms get it. It's like. For my troubles, I have this secret handshake into this exclusive moms club. 'Wait, your kid is a dick, too? No way!'  And it's nice to have this solidarity with other crazy women that decided to procreate just like you. It allows me to check my amount of wine consumption as normal...
Jett is the bomb.com at this age. Even on his WORST days, he's 1,000 better than infant Jett. He can use the bathroom by himself, at his own behest. He can wash hands, get snacks, get water, open the door to let the dog out, feed the dog, dress himself (not that he does), turn on the tv, receiver and DVD player to watch a movie, trike down the culdesac, draw stick men, make a Trader Joe's out of Legos, and take a shower. We're working on being a better listener and saying please and thank you without being prompted....these have been slow-going achievements...
He yells at us a lot, like, 'Mom, why'd you move my Legos?!?!' Which is fun especially whenI didn't   actually move his Legos... But he's smart and funny and devilishly handsome and we may just have to deal with a spoiled, only-child kid because this kid definitely isn't getting a sibling. Babies are for the birds. If I could birth a 2-year-old, I'd def consider it. For now, Jett is going to have to rely on a bunch of close friends and being spoiled...he's a great kid, albeit a bit of a jerk, and I cannot wait to see what 4 brings!!!