Happy Tax Day!

Wouldn’t it be keen if ‘Happy’ and ‘Tax’ could go together?

In our household we call it, “OHCRAPIMGOINGTOJAILIFIDONTFILE” day.

We’re a full two months (and two years) late already. At the beginning of May we put out hands over our ears, close our eyes and say “LALALALALA” out loud until they shuffle through the keener returns, figure out the naughty list, send out an OFFICIAL NOTICE and threaten us with things only the government can get away with.

There is much smell excrementally speaking and the tension is tighter than a CA married to a librarian’s sphincter in these here parts.

I took Monday off and spent the day sorting through receipts, separating taxes on each receipt and documenting totals. Which means I cleaned the house, did laundry, sorted the ten year olds clothes, alphabetized every recipe I had loosely packed in old cook books and calculated my June mileage which involves ten thousands column addition.

Procrastination is why we’re frantically trying to get to our 2007 taxes. I say ‘we’ but I really mean the husband. I’ve called Canada Revenue several years in a row now offering him up for a jail term for not filing on time and they just won’t take him. I’ve pled ignorance, negligence and ‘we renovated-gence’ and every time I’ve been given a reprieve from a sympathetic ear. This year they’re practicing tough tax love.

I wasn’t even permitted to read the OFFICIAL NOTICE.

So I guess it was an ‘alleged’ official notice but it worked.

The husband did his taxes today which means he did four loads of laundry, cleaned out, washed and sanitized the garbage bins (the city is on strike -it’s getting stinky). I got a phone call mid-day to ask a question about where my receipts were and then he totally ignored the answer. He also vacuumed but I did that on the weekend and it’s only Wednesday so that gets cancelled out automatically due to the ‘late at the gate’ clause.
When I got home he was tired and crabby. I tried to smile sincerely when I offered him a glass of my favourite Pinot Grigio. I think it looked like a wince.

It’s 8pm now and he marinated, cooked and served bar-b-qued steaks, red pepper and mushrooms and he is now watching 30 Rock reruns so I guess the taxes aren’t filed and delivered.

Just a guess.

At least the house is clean and we have leftovers for tomorrow!