Because of a serious attack of acute avoidance behaviour, you may remember from my previous post, the children's room was beautifully neat. Their play table was perfectly set with their bright plastic tea set, but the rest of the house was looking like a paper recycling plant. I hate tax.
The good news is that eventually I found ALL of the group certificates (do they call them that in the USA?), ALL of the receipts, virtually ALL of the information that was required to enable our accountant to complete tax returns for last year for Mr Sunshine and myself, and the last 3 years for Uncle R. I still have lots of paper to put away or put in the circular file, but it is basically sorted. Did I say I hate tax?
The other bonus was when Lion and Dragon came over while chaos still reigned. Dragon wandered aimlessly down the hall as they do. You never know what you might stumble across at Grannysaurus's - a few coins for your money box; some pretty jewelery (pirate treasure), left lying on a dresser; some chocolate carelessly left lying about in the refrigerator. He spotted the play table all set and ready to play and his face lit up and his eyes popped. So Mummy McTavish and Grannysaurus were immediately invited to a tea party. I say invited, but this invitation had no option to refuse. It might as well have been a royal summons. As you can see they happened to have real chips with them to add a little panache to our soirée. Did I say I hate tax?
Anyway the tax is done. The accountant is happy. In a few weeks we will each get some nice cheques in the mail to make it all worthwhile. I know tax is a necessary evil and my problem is not really about the money. It is about the inconvenience, the difficulty I have organising paperwork and the impossibility of understanding the forms without the assistance of an accountant (bless him! he earns every cent he gets and I wouldn't swap places with him for quids). I still hate tax.
