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LAST NIGHT THE DOORBELL RANG at 10:44 p.m.

I had been awaiting this man who stood at the door, proffering me a fat envelope.

"Thank you." I said. "You don't mind if I take your picture, do you?"

He looked a little baffled. "Now why would you want to do that?"

"Oh, it's just for my blog." I smiled sweetly and snapped the picture. "I have to write about paying my taxes, you know! Thanks!"

I took the envelope. "Don't worry, hardly anyone will see it!" I laughed as I closed the door.

Upstairs another man--the one who always scrawls his John Hancock with mine on the tax returns--was sound asleep in bed. He planned to leave well before dawn this morning to be out of town for the whole tax-deadline day. And, true to tradition, the CPA had been scrambling to get those forms ready for us.
Home delivery via courier service was definitely a first--but a deadline is a deadline, after all.

And the IRS should be happy to know that all signatures are bona fide and in their place on the forms I mailed out today, which could never be said if it weren't for that courier guy!


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