the gravitational pull of the fuzzy face

I overslept this morning, and am running late, and have 20 minutes to get dressed and have breakfast and get out the door; but there is a happy drooling kitty on my lap who I'm getting insufficient quality time with and every time I offer to move he looks up at me with his so-contented face and purr-wheeze-drools at me and I am helpless.

He knows this, of course. I am being played like an old fiddle.