Today my dad called me and urgently decided that it was now or never to get my taxes in order. I'm 22 and my parents still claim me as a dependent, and as much as I'd like to get this stuff in order myself, something tells me that my dad is a teeny bit soothed by being in control of all the tax stuff. He was in Columbus for a meeting and so we met halfway at a Panera in Lancaster so I could sign things and write checks to the gummint. He ordered a hot chocolate, which is hilarious to me. There he was, gray-haired and clad in sharp business attire, getting whipped cream on his nose.
We talked a little about my "career" and "options" (emphasis on the scare quotes there) and I am pretty lucky that my parents have never put a ton of pressure on me to take a cookie cutter career path or buy heavily into institutionalized notions of success. Although sometimes I wonder if the reason I'm not being hassled to get my life together is because I'm the baby and they keep forgetting that I'm at an age where that should be expected of me. So I'm gonna ride that out til at least senior prom.
1 comment:
You're dad is so adorable! I still get frantic phone calls from my mom on the first possible day to file taxes. I'm 24 and she still has me claimed as dependent...and yeah, she still files them for me. I asked her to just let me do them myself once...and $1163 ended up in my bank account from the United States of America. I don't have a job yet or a master's degree, I think we both want to ride this one out.
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