So the Mister has been pestering me to get the taxes done now now now do it NOW. We never have everything this early so I was skeptical when he handed me the folder stuffed full of documents and empty envelopes.
M “We could really use the money as soon as possible so please get this done and filed by tonight. I mean it.”
J “Are you sure?”
M “Of course. We’re all set.”
And of course I get to property taxes and we don’t have the car stuff.
J “Hey honey, where’s the car tax info thingie… stuff? I’m trying to do the property taxes.”
M “What do you mean?”
J “Where’s the paperwork saying what we paid in car taxes?”
M “At city hall.”
J “Honey, why isn’t it with the tax folder?”
M “Can’t you just guess based on last year?”
J “What if last year was a guess?” note: Please don’t audit me.
M “Guess again?”
J “How about we go to city hall tomorrow. I don’t think we should guess.”
M “By ‘we’ you mean ‘me’.”
J “I love you.”
I also love H&R Block. It’s reduced the stress quotient in the whole “doing your own taxes” thing exponentially. It makes it easy and user friendly and they’re great with customer loyalty. But you sort of have to be loyal if you like neat tricks like exporting the tax information from prior years into your current tax paperwork with ease.
I’m a bit of a freak, though. I enjoy doing taxes once we get past the whole, “I want to punch my husband in the face” stage. He saves every envelope known to man no matter how useless, torn to shreds, or empty it is in our tax paperwork. He includes bank and investor junk mail ie. paper spam in our tax folder for me to sort through. And those software update discs? I have three of them. They’re all the same, as in identical. Triplets. Why three? He even bundled them together for me. But in spite of this black hole of a folder that sucks in nearly everything in its path, he stuffs relevant receipts into his wallet. A year’s worth of receipts. And he doesn’t understand why you have to use the little envelopes the church provides when you make your offering. ::sigh:: Taxes. The church sends you a statement at the end of the year with your contributions to include in your effing taxes as a charitable donation.
Every year, something is briefly missing or we’re waiting for something or we forgot something or misplaced it. Every year I have to sift through the junk folder. One year there was a second folder. Every year I ask, “Are you sure?” in a teasing way because I know my husband. He was so insulted, but… well… you know. We’re us and we need to ask each other questions like that.