My hero

Imagine a man, a bit taller than me, with tight black and curly poodle-type hair. A golden tan like the Yorkshire tea that he so enjoys, and chocolate drop eyes full of excitement and intrigue. He's so unpredictable.

Imagine this man dressed in a flat cap, with a smart golf jumper that undulated over his muscles like the sahara dessert. This is complimented with smart grey dress trousers, almost perfect, apart from the singed pocket where he stuffs his pipe frequently forgetting that it's lit.

Imagine this man with a real love for his family - an Irish wife and 4 lively daughters. It's no wonder he did so much sport!

This is my father, my hero.

Today I'd like you to sit back and relax as I showcase these traits - the love for his family, his pure strength and his total unpredictability.

Sundays were the best because mother stayed at home whilst father took us on an exploration!

Today wasn't the time we went blackburry picking - it was far more adventurous. Today wasn't the time we collected manure in my sister's doll's pram - it was far more adventurous.

As we scurried out the door and kissed my mother goodbye, we flew down the street and rounded the corner. It was then my father opened his winter coat and showed us today's surprise - a wood cutting saw! Yes, a wood cutting saw!

I said to my father, "daddy why do you have a saw?" ...but he was scurring off with full haste.

But this was nothing! The saw was nothing compared to where we ended up.

The best way to describe it is for you to imagine being suspended over a bath full of water. As you plummet into the water there's total devistation as water is splatted this way and that. You're left sitting in a trickle of water that puddles around your feet.

This was like the scene that presented itself - an end-of-terrace derralict house with the walls bombed, rubble and broken glass everywhere. In the centre is the most perfect Victorian fireplace standing tall like me in the bath. Next to it is a cosy armchair like an old dog waiting for it's master to come home.

Again I asked my father, "daddy, why do you have a saw?"

"to cut wood!" he replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. My father had a knack of making the most insane seem so normal. As if it was normal to take 4 young daughters to a deralict house to collect wood!!!

It was then that we heard the most almighty scream, aaaaaarrrrggggghhhh!

Like harry potter searching for the golden snitch, we swooped down to the scene of the noise.

All I could see was my baby sister's bobble hat bobbing up and down as she sobbed uncontrollably beneath, her tiny fingers White as she clung on to the side of the cavenous hole!

Like superman my father swooped down and picked her up like a hawk with a tiny White mouse.

My father, my hero!

I lernt two valuable lessons that day:

1) don't leave my baby sister unattended in a perilous place with rubble, broken glass and my father.

2) don't tell my mother because... She went absolutely ballistic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!