What a weekend. Laura did taxes on Saturday morning and delivered the bad news: We owe over a thousand dollars. This news on the heels of other fun financial news. This news after we were expecting (and needing) a large refund due to our legion of children and the federal tax credit that currently comes with them. So Laura, visions of Cinderella Man in her head, cried some and we took the kids to the park.
After we got home, I looked for more freelance work as well as a full-time job - with little success, as usual.
Laura continued on the taxes. She came up the stairs into my half-story office and said that she had just entered Sophie's social security number and that when she did the amount we owed dropped to $20. That drop came with one child. We have a bazillion children. So Laura's tears became smiles and my nervous laughter settled down into peace.
. . . . .
My two youngest children are coffee drinkers. That's right, my three-year-old yellow-haired child and my 22-month-old boy, whose use of wet coffee grounds from the trash as chaw makes room for easy belief, are drinking now. Of course it's Eve's fault. I don't drink coffee. Okay, occasionally I'll have a cup. But these kids drink the stuff whenever my wife does. It's disturbing. Sunday, on the way to church, my son had my wife's mug and was slurping down her last ounce while strapped down in his baby seat.
That just ain't right. Are cigars next?