Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Marriage 301, Lecture 563: Death and taxes
SH: Thank you for not nagging me about getting the taxes done.
[Because chez nous, even though I am the one who
1. Worked at the IRS
2. Has an MBA with a 4.0 GPA and the highest score in my class on my finance final
3. Has filed my own taxes every year of my W-2/4* life, early, and with the smallest refund possible,
SH is not confident of my abilities to do taxes and wants to, in his engineer fashion, go over everything I have done in TurboTax to make sure I have done it right. Even though if you make a mistake, you can always file a 1040X, which takes about ten seconds. This wanting to review my work is not such a big deal except that SH runs on football time, in which "a minute" means "half an hour" and "soon" means "one minute before the filing deadline after I spend all night and I do mean all night working on it." I like to file my taxes and get my refund as soon as I have all the paperwork. Why make an interest-free loan to the government, I say.]
Me: You're welcome.
SH: Why aren't you nagging me?
Me: Because it doesn't do a darn bit of good.
SH: It doesn't make you feel better?
Me: All I want is for you to do what I want you to do [that is, file the taxes as soon as we have all the documents] and nagging doesn't accomplish that.
SH: You don't like to nag just to nag?
Me: Nope. All it does is tick me off that you're not minding me.
* I know a guy - super nice, hardworking guy - who did not know what a W4 was until after he completed college. He got a summer job between college and grad school and didn't know what he was supposed to do with that form. He had never had a job before in his life. Bless his heart.
** I have another rich kid friend - again, super nice, hardworking guy - we are still friends - who one day at work showed me his very nice expensive shoes that he was going to have to throw away because they had a hole in the sole. "The cobbler can't fix it?" I asked.
"What is this 'cobbler' of which you speak?" he asked.
He did not know that shoes could be repaired. He was thrilled - he took the shoes to the little Haitian shoe guy on Calle 8 whom I recommended. The shoes were re-soled and, even better, polished. POLISHED. Which he had never done to his shoes before. "They look like new!" he said. He was so happy. I said, "You rich kids. Think you just throw shoes away and buy new ones."
*** I had another friend who was upset that she was going to have to buy new boots this winter because the new boots she had bought the year before had a scuff in them. "You couldn't polish it out?" I asked.
Again. "What is this 'polish' of which you speak?"
Nope. She didn't know you could polish shoes. She was not a rich kid. She was a military brat like me, which is why I was so surprised at her ignorance. When I was a kid, one of my chores was polishing my dad's shoes. I still do a mean shoe shine.