The alarm goes off. My arm snaps out to shut it off and I roll away from the small knees that are pressed firmly in the small of my back. He stirs, turns over. I creep out of bed and into the dark bathroom.
My jogging clothes are laying next to the tub. I pull them on and try to bring my brain out of the fog of sleep. Thinking about which show I'd like to watch when I hop on the treadmill, I don't notice the door open. But then he's there. Eyes not quite open, footie pajamas a little twisted on his slender body. He's not ready to be up for the day, but if I am, he won't lay back down.
So I shut off the light. Pick him up in my arms. Carry him back to our bed, where he curls into my frame. For a moment I regret the run that won't be happening. Then he kisses my forehead, and sighs.
I kiss him back. There's nowhere I'd rather be.