"Daddy, daddy, dad, daddy, dada, dad" M pestered her father. She always seems to bug him incessantly - maybe she knows I will sleep right through it, so there is no use talking to me.
Finally, Dad turned around, flustered, and said "What?!"
He seemed irritated to be bothered by such a trivial factoid, but as he rolled back over to close his eyes, he was smiling.
Reminds me of the book Pat the Bunny where you are invited to feel daddy's scratchy face, made of sandpaper.