Don’t Know About Taxes This Year

Don’t Know About Taxes This Year
by EN Heim
Words: 667

SUBMITTED: Neutrons Protons - http://neutronsprotons.com 7 February 2014
This story is part of a series titled: Gwynne and Barrett

“Don’t know about taxes this year,” said Barrett. “Everything looks upside down. Never saw such a bunch of words that don’t mean nothin’. They just intimidate. I hate the phrase that says: You Owe.”

Barrett turned and asked Gwynn what that word meant. She responded, “Did you do your taxes right this year?”

“Like last” he uttered, “We got it back big-time.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

“What’s that?”

“The big-time.”

“The IRS said nothin’. Whatcha mean?”

“They made a mistake.”

“The IRS don’t make mistakes. People make mistakes.”

“What you mean they don’t make mistakes? They’ve gots people workin’ for them, don’t they?”

“Yeah, uh ha.”

“Well there’s the mistake.”

“I thought everything was computerized these days…like a bunch o’robots punchin’ computers.”

“Evidently not.”


After some thought and redo, Barrett held up the 1040 to look at it through the window’s light—the sun came glaring in. Gwynn noticed. Her face churned looking at Barrett scrutinizing the pink colored sheet. “Whatcha doin’ there?” she muttered. She was looking at the glove she was knitting. She held it up to see its growth.

“Checkin’ to see if it’s gots hidden words between them lines. You can never tell about them government forms these days. Everything’s hidden.”

“You think they’ve gots sumptin’ secret in there this time?”

“Yeah. Probably why nothin’ don’t add up this year.”

“Did you leave sumpin’ out?”

“Like what?”

“Our SSA statements.”

“That was the first thing I puts in.”

Gwynn took out her teeth and squinted at them. Barrett glanced over and asked, “What’s wrong with your choppers?”

“Gots sumptin’ in’em. It looks like a seed.”

“Been eatin’ sunflowers seeds again?”

“Yeah. They keep my bowls movin’ along.”

“I like pumpkin. They really flush.”

“Maybe that’s what you should do.”

“What’s that Gwynn?”

“Send the IRS a whole pot o’them pumpkin seeds.”

“That’s a thought. I don’t think they’d wants to be flushed though. They have enough problems as it is.”

Barrett’s mind BINGOed. “Got it Gwynn.”

“What’s that Gar?”

“Pumpkin seeds.”

“You gonna send the IRS pumpkin seeds?”

“No. Growd’em.”

Gwynn looked at her glove, turned it around, and pulled at one of the fingers—it looked short. “Why is it every time I knit I make them fingers too long or two short?”

“What Gwynn, you say the seeds won’t growd long or short this year? Why’s that?”

“Dunno. Can’t seem to figure it out.” Her mind is on her knitting.

“Kinda like the IRS. They make these forms short so they gets the long of ya.” Barrett glanced over to Gwynn. She was scrutinizing the short finger. “If you’d make that finger longer, it’ll match the other hand.”

She looks up to Barrett, smirks. “Don’t I knowd that Hon. Geeze Gar, you sound likes you gots too much smarts for your own good.”

“I’d like to understand this 1040-EZ Form. It’s got too many things goin’ on it.”

“What’s that?” asked Gwynn.

“Words. Words I don’t understand.”

“They always put too many words on government forms. You think they’d put it in simple English like American.”

“That’d be too easy for them tax lawyers down at the IRS. They put too many words in’em to confuse’em.”

“Yeah, I heard they don’t understand them forms too.”

“I was talkin’ to one of them tax prep people downtown the other day,” said Gwynn, ‘and he said he couldn’t get it either.”

“That’s why I don’t let them touch my forms. If they don’t get it, I don’t get it to’em.”

“If you don’t make that form work, maybe you’d have to get to’em this year.”

“I can screw up a form just as good as that tax man downtown. No I’m doin’ mine like I always has.”


After three hours of number crunching and manipulation, Barrett finally holds up the 1040-EZ to check it in the light for the last time. “Got’s it all done Gwynn.”

“We make out?”

“Like bandits.”

“What if you gets an audit?”

“I’ll send’em a pot o’pumpkin seeds.”