Write about your father.
I've the bestest Daddy in all the world. He plays the bestest games and gives the bestest presents.
She had bounced out at the slightest sound, running down the dirt path to meet the man, ten times her size, at the gate. One bound and she landed in an embrace. He carried her partway towards the house before she started tugging at his pockets. A brown paper parcel tumbled out, and nimble little fingers tugged at the string.
"What's it, Daddy?"
"It's the doll you wanted, poppet." Little fingers tore the paper in two.
A little wooden face smiled at her. The printed flowery dress was taffeta, edged with yellow ribbon.
"It's beautiful."
He's beautiful.
The man had a broad, worn face, streaked with dust from the mines that did not come off after a dozen washings. Crinkled blue eyes smiled. His hands were warm, his arms were strong. He gave her another kiss and set her down just outside the door.
"Run along now, princess." He still calls her that, even after the birth of his second daughter. "See if your mum is ready with supper."
He's got wickedly sharp teeth. Rrrrr.
Clutching her new doll, the little, little girl tripped to the kitchen, grabbing onto Mummy's apron with her spare hand.
"Mummy! Mummy! Daddy's home."
And Daddy will always come back.