In Which The Beans Pay Taxes– Sort Of

[This series of events is weirdly inspirational considering we’re talking about the IRS here.]

2009

The Beans make money.

2010

AprilThe Beans file a tax return with the IRS and pay taxes on the money they made in 2009.

August – The Beans receive a letter from the IRS stating that one small section of The Beans’ 2009 tax return is being audited.

The Beans phone their CPA, Sir Add-alot, who did the tax return in question.  Sir Add-alot and the Lawyer Bean figure out that the IRS is indeed correct and that a mistake has been made on the “tax return in question.”

The Beans pay more taxes.  And a penalty.

The Lawyer Bean, who spends most of his working life figuring out how to solve problems, is pleased that the situation is rectified.   The Blogger Bean shrugs and says, “oh well.”   Sir Add-alot frets.

November – Sir Add-alot continues to fret and tells the Lawyer Bean of such.

2011

FebruaryThe Beans receive a phone call from Sir Add-alot.

While preparing The Beans’ 2010 tax return, Sir Add-alot has a brain storm and double checks something on what is now known within The Bean household as the “tax return formerly in question.”  At which point he realizes that he did not make a mistake on the “tax return formerly in question.”  Nor did the Lawyer Bean make a mistake.

[It’s a given that the Blogger Bean didn’t make a mistake.  She cedes all responsibility for taxes to those who actually enjoy working with numbers.]

The Beans learn from Sir Add-alot that the financial institution where they have some investments– a place of numbers— had made a mistake while adding up a bunch of numbers.

[Uh huh.]

By the time the Blogger Bean hears of this turn of events, Sir Add-alot has already made some calls– filled in some new forms– talked with the right people.  And he has sent the revised “tax return in question/then not in question because we paid more taxes and a penalty/then known as the tax return formerly in question/but now once again referred to as the tax return in question (but in a good way)” to the IRS.

[You with me here?]

AprilThe Beans await the return of their money— that they did not owe to the IRS, but paid while under the impression that they did owe it to the IRS– but now know better– and want their money back from the IRS– who has said that the money will be returned to The Beans once the “tax return in question (but in a good way)” is processed by the IRS.

The End.

[I hope.]

This & That

{april – monday – morning}

It’s Get To Know Your Neighbor’s Trash Day in our suburb this morning.

Monday is trash day here and most neighbors put their trash by the curb on Sunday night.  Last night we had high winds that blew everyone’s trash around the yards and into the street.  So far no one has been a slug about picking up the mess in front of their property.  Yeah!

However, every once in a while we have someone who moves here and refuses to pick up any trash but their own.  We don’t like those sort of people.  They don’t last long here in Mom Trails.  [That’s my nickname for this subdivision.]

Word of the day is slabjacking. I love saying it.  *slabjacking*

It means that our front sidewalk will be “magically” lifted from underneath to make the sidewalk level again and connect with the bottom of the front stoop.  This requires specialized equipment and the expertise of a concrete company.  *slabjacking*

Currently the front sidewalk is uneven and sinking to the right which is dangerous and ugly.  When the company finishes this repair, we will have a level sidewalk and everything will look almost like new.  *slabjacking*

I’m allergic to April.

My allergist refers to my particular allergies as “rose fever.”  I’d be a darned bit less snarly about these allergies if there were some roses on the bushes now.  But the bushes around here are all thorny and dormant with no flowers on them.

I asked my allergist about this obvious discrepancy between reality [no roses in sight] and his term for my malady [clearly based on the concept of roses causing something].  He just laughed, said it was an old-fashioned term, and kept on telling me what to do to relieve my itchy, bitchy, twitchy-ness.  Nothing like modern medicine, eh?

Shopping For Clothes

I don’t like to shop for clothes– at the mall– in the department stores.  However, last week it seemed like a good idea. So…

I went to the mall to look for some spring clothes for me.  I parked in the only place I could find– a parking garage about halfway between two department store anchors on either end of the mall.  Then I walked to the end of the mall to shop in the big bad department.

Once inside I went to the exact spot in the exact department where I had seen, in January, what I wanted to buy.  But my item was not there.  In fact, the whole large area formerly devoted to this particular brand was gone.  So I went in search of a sales associate.  Eventually I found a woman and asked her where the brand I wanted was hiding.  I know department stores.  They hide things.

She told me that they no longer carried that brand.  So I asked: “why?” And this is what she told me.

The brand that I was interested in buying is also sold on a tv shopping network.  Dishonest shoppers, who had purchased discounted  items on the tv shopping network, were returning these discounted items to the big bad department store– where the big bad department store was giving them a full price refund— which was costing the big bad department store money.

[I have no idea why the big bad department store didn’t pull a Nancy Reagan and “Just Say NO” to the scam artists.  That’s what I’d do if I was in charge.  But, of course, I am rational and ethical– which in my experience is the antithesis of how department stores work.]

Instead, the big bad department store did the only thing it could think of to solve this problem;  it stopped carrying the brand altogether.  The brand that I had finally decided to buy.  The brand that this annoying store has promoted ad nauseum for years.  That brand.  *sigh*

So I thanked the sales associate for letting me know what was going on and left the big bad department store empty-handed.  Again.

As I was walking back to my car, I started thinking about what had just happened.  I had made the effort to buy something, but was defeated by the very store that had convinced me that I needed this item.  That was annoying.

I’d  been told a story that made the big bad department store look like a victim– which, I guess, the sales associate thought would make me sympathetic to the plight of the store.  That was weird.

But most importantly, I’d had the belated realization that I should never, ever listen to what the big bad department store says. Everything about the place is  hinky.  And this insight, gentle readers, was worth the trip to the mall.  I have learned.  I am better for it.

And you know what?  I’m not going back there again.

[Hello FTC!  I cannot lie.  I didn’t put this disclaimer on this post when I first published it because I didn’t use any names of the companies that I’m writing about here.  But now I can see that in the comments below I will be revealing the identity of the big bad department store.  So just to be safe, here is what you like to see: I have received no money or other compensation for the opinions stated in this post or in the comments below.]



You Have To Latch On To The Affirmative

You’ll be happy to know that the physical therapist, recommended by my doctor to evaluate my lower back strength and flexibility, has established that I have the hamstrings of a Rockette.”

This is a good thing.

You’ll be equally happy to know that said physical therapist, who is the epitome of tact and grace, did not mention my Mama Cass Eliott thighs.

Not once.

Reflecting on the above I have concluded that: 1) I’ll take good news, no matter how unique, wherever I find it;  and 2) it’s time for me to get walking on a regular basis again.