My dad

My father is a fixer. If there is a problem and he knows about it, he's going to move heaven and earth to solve it.
In that moving heaven and earth he has the ablity to make me slighly insane.
For a few months now I've been battling a heel bone spur which makes walking painful and difficult. (Imagine the worst bruise on the heel of your foot. That's what it feels like)
Most of the time I'm walking with a limp and gimping around on the slow side.
I have an appt with  my doctor on the 28th of this month to discuss it and a myraid of other issues but mostly the damn foot thing.
My dad saw me limping around and asked what it was.

Once he diagnosed what it was that was  it. He was off and running ordering me a boot to sleep with at night, getting me a heating pad, a massager, a tool to exercise the muscules with, asking his Physical Therapist what I should do about it...
I love the help and over the years have become completely spoiled by my dad, knowing he's always there to help me no matter what.

It's the phone calls I can do without. In the time it took me to type all that you see above, my father has called me three times to discuss getting a new battery for my phone. He just called me again to ask for my sister's email.
When he decided to help me with my foot, in the span of one hour the man called my home 8 times and my cel phone 9 trying to get a hold of me.

I love my dad and he and I have always been close. Ever since I was a little girl, he's been my buddy. I know my dad well enough that if I tell him to please, stop with the phone calls, it's going to hurt his feelings.

So I accept (or ignore in some cases) every single call and rather than be annoyed, I realize how lucky I am to have a dad like him...