15 February 2009

Whew. Glad That's Over.

And by that, I mean our yearly visit to a major tax preparation company.

My husband regards these visits with about as much joy as he would a root canal, sans anesthetic. Never mind that he has as much as possible taken out of his paycheck - he always thinks we're going to get socked by the Feds. So until we get to the tax office (and get through the return process) he's anxious, grumpy, and depressed. Me, I try to refrain from telling him not to worry (he hates that) while remaining positive and upbeat so he will stop telling me he wants to throw himself under the nearest bus. Needless to say, it's stressful for both of us.

Well, despite having serious onion breath from lunch, our tax guy this year was quite friendly and competent. And at the end of our half hour session he had good news. Very good news. I thought my husband was going to melt into a puddle right then and there. I just sat there, squeezed his hand, and tried to hide my "I told you so" grin.

So no playing in traffic for us, at least for another year.


Nan said...

I am hearing the Beatles song "The Tax Man."

It's the people who worry who are ok. It's when you don't worry that things become a mess.