The tax man cometh...

Ick. That pretty much sums up my feelings for this evening's activities. Ick. It's that time of year again. The time when we load the kids into the car, drive an hour or so to the mall, unload the kids and slog through the department store (please don't pull on the tags, Sweetheart), try to remember which side the toystore is on (No, guys, we are not here for toys. You already have wall-to-wall carpeting done in early-Lego. I'm sorry what was that? I'm afraid I don't speak "whine" and I think I already said "no".) and then try to find the tax preparer's new location. I'm not sure why they feel the need to grab a different place in the mall every year. I'm even less certain about their theory that an office in the middle of perpetual renovation will instill confidence in customers. It looks like they have set up shop for the night and may very well not be there if a problem pops up.

I probably wouldn't dread tonight's trip if it weren't our second attempt at getting our taxes done. The first time we finally got there only to wait in a line that moved at a glacial pace. The poor woman was working by herself and seemed a little overwhelmed. After nearly 45 minutes, her co-worker showed up. Yes co-worker... as in the singular form... as in, during the busiest season for tax preparers on one of their (apparently) busier days, there were only two people scheduled. I'm not sure who the other three desks belonged to but they worked nicely for holding jackets etc.

When it was finally our turn it turned out that we were missing one piece of paper that must have been fairly important. I found myself longing for the guy who did our taxes last year. We had a similar situation then, but he looked at the kids and either felt sorry for us or concerned for the condition of his office, because he went ahead and filled out everything else, saved the info and got the missing number from my husband the next day. We had to go back to sign the completed form, but it was quick and painless. Apparently, he was not in charge of training this year's crew. Oh well. At least we now know what we are probably going to be dealing with and I'll be more prepared. Last time I managed to leave part of my knitting at home. (I had yarn, needles and work-in-progress... everything I needed... except that pesky pattern. *sigh*) This time I'm taking the baby hat that is nearly finished (more on that later), the lace dishcloth that requires that I reknit each right-side row at least once to find the missing stitch and my drop spindle for calming my self when the re-knitting gets to me.