Unlike most people, I look forward to tax day with glee. In fact, by tax day, I’ve not only done my taxes, but had my refund direct deposited to my account and likely spent it six ways from Sunday. Since history suggests my ability to save is somewhat… nonexistent… the Earned Income Credit is a sweet way to suddenly have a chunk of change to not only address some of the more serious debts, but also throw some money at Doctors Without Borders and make a rare big-ticket purchase. The idea that money equals power never feels more concrete. Bwahahahaha!
Favorite way to do taxes: Turbo Tax. I qualify for the free version.
Only bummer this year? Chelsea turning 17 last year cost us $1,000! Dang!
I wish we’d get the refund before Nick and I head to SF for his endoscopy. Usually our trips include breakfast at the Crepevine on Irvine, dinner at Q on Clement Street and a movie on our friends’ big screen TV. The diabetes appointment is relatively painless. Nick gets to ask questions and hear about how well he’s doing. The fun glosses right over the big, scary, rest-of-your-life stuff.
This appointment is different, although the endoscopy is said to be a simple procedure. But he has to go under.
I had my tonsils out when I was six. My parents bought me a three-foot long teddy bear. I named him John-John and kept him by my side throughout the experience. The doctors and nurses indulged me greatly, giving John-John a shot when I had to get one, taking his temperature when they took mine, wheeling him in with me and not taking him away until the mask had put me well into slumber – and returning him to my side before I woke up. (He got his tonsils out, too.) I have nothing but good memories of that experience.
Nick is too old for that sort of make-believe, but I wish I had something for him to distract from the scary part. All I can do so far is reassure him it will be simple and short with ice cream afterwards. But, oh, he has to go under! I wish I had something for me to distract from the scary part.