The Confessions of a Daddy

by Ellis Parker Butler

I pounded up her pillow, and turned it over, and pulled the sheets out straight. Then I took the baby and laid her down gentle. She smiled and cuddled into the pillow.

“Oh, what a nice bed!” I says. “Ain't it a nice bed, Deedee?”

“Nice bed,” she allowed.

“Will I cover your feet?” I says.

“Feet cov,” she says, eager.

So I spread the sheet up over her feet.

“Shut little eyes,” I says in warning, but as gentle as you please, and she shut up her eyes so tight her eyelids wrinkled.

“Now, good night, Deedee,” I says.

“'Night, pa—pa!” she coos.

I stole out of the room as quiet as I knowed how, and dropped cautious into my chair. I leaned back and smiled sort of grim. “That shows,” I thinks, “that women ain't got the right kind of tact to handle a kid, or else they 've got catchin' nerves. It shows how easy a man can—”