...Cause He's the Tax Man!

In the first grade, my teacher posed a question to the class about what each of our parents did for work:  Doctor, plumber, farmer...when it was my turn I said, "My dad does taxes."  The teacher laughed.  I didn't understand.  I still don't understand.  Taxes aren't funny, and my dad IS an accountant.

 Two days ago he called concerned that he hadn't yet seen our tax documents for 2008.  He wondered if we had used someone else.  What?  That's crazy!  My dad is an accountant.  I would never dream of trusting this delicate issue to the mind of another number cruncher.  Since my first grade career day experience, as far as I'm concerned, my father is the only accountant in the entire world who matters.  He's absolutely the best, most honest, meticulous, intelligent man in the accounting world.  Today is his super bowl, and I know he'll be running that adding maching until the clock strikes midnight.  

Good luck, Dad, and don't worry...ever the procastinator, I've filed an extension.  Our government is democratic afterall.