Late for work

I'm late for work. What is my excuse? Flat tire? Dog got hit by a car? Stuck in traffic? Nope. I have an excuse way better than any. Every morning I am paralyzed by the snugly bundle next to me. By the warm softness of his skin and smell of his sweet breath. By the cherub face, chin tilted skyward and the satisfied smacks of his perfect Cupid's bow mouth. By the sound of his rhythmic breathing and the occasional small snore or tiny sigh. Even when he awakens, I'm captivated. His big, bright blue eyes examine my face and a tiny soft hand reaches out to grab my nose or hair. His small voice chirping 'ohs' and 'ahs'. Yes, I'm stricken, immobile and completely at his mercy.