April 15 is our annual “come to Jesus” meeting with The Man… Tax Day (insert sinister music).
I don’t know of anyone who looks forward to Tax Day; however, it is not without its potential for celebration. For those with a high number of “dependents” (think Jim Bob of “19 Kids and Counting” fame), April 15 brings a kind of fiscal thankfulness that we do not have on any other day of the year. For example, my wallet is not joyous and thankful when I’m still buying a $35 box of diapers for my nearly three year old who refuses to potty train. So, April 15th allows folks like me an opportunity to celebrate our inability to grasp the concepts around the birds and the bees (no need for diagrams… I think we’ve mastered the high-level concepts). Not that we don’t love our little “blessings” every day of the year, but on Tax Day, Uncle Sam high fives us financially for our suburbans or minivans filled with our babies, especially our surprise multiples, vacation babies, our “didn’t make the appointment for the vasectomy” babies, or our later-in-life babies.
Therefore, I ask, is it wrong to consider it even a minor celebration among our other American holidays? Perhaps you think it isn’t fitting with the rest of our non-religious holidays, even the Tier 2 less-commercial holidays like St. Patrick’s Day and Labor Day. You may think that Tax Day is overshadowed by doom and gloom and bitterness to be an appropriate candidate for holiday classification. I would suggest, in rebuttal, that our holidays are merely based on perspective. Consider the following:
On Jan.1, we celebrate the New Year with its fresh start. We promise to be thinner, nicer, more loving and successful than we were just one day before. We resolve to call our moms more regularly, give up sugar, go to the gym, and watch less TV for at least the first two weeks of the new year.
On Feb. 14, we pay through the nose for roses, wait an hour for a table at Red Robin or Chili’s (read: no time or energy to make reservations anywhere else in advance), and lick somewhere in the neighborhood of 108 little Valentine envelopes in the name of L-O-V-E.
On Mar. 17, we “forget” to wear green so that someone… anyone… will pinch us on the ass because that is clearly what a magical little creature who hoards gold at the end of a rainbow would do. Obviously.
In May, mothers are inundated with homemade meals (because dad didn’t think ahead to make reservations), school projects involving a handprint, a flower, and/or some kind of bird as a one-day thank you for the crap they put up with the other 364 days per year.
In June, fathers everywhere eat BBQ and open polo shirts, golf balls, and tie- or fishing-themed school projects while celebrating the 7-minute contribution they made to the creation of the child/children in question.
July brings a celebration of our freedom …. freedom to BBQ, drink a ton of beer, blow up stuff for entertainment and dress like an American flag.
Labor Day is an ironic holiday to be sure as I’m convinced all we do is laze about and do absolutely nothing except BBQ.
In October, we allow our kids to dress up and become candy pan-handlers… begging for free candy under the threat of a “trick”. Even better, we walk them to the edge of a sugar coma and then, when they are in bed, we look into the eyes of one ourselves as we devour both our kids candy and the leftovers from what was not given out in our own homes.
Late November brings Thanksgiving during which we don our “comfortable clothes” to watch football for at least six hours and gorge ourselves until we’re sick.
December means all things in excess, a fat man in a red suit, and that damn Elf on a Shelf that moves around your house like an invited stalker.
Of course, I realize that it’s going to be difficult to have April 15 named a national holiday by the government. I recognize that Tax Day as a holiday could be controversial and polarizing (frankly, neither of which I have the energy for). Perhaps I’ll merely mention this new “holiday” to Hallmark and other retail establishments. Then, they can immediately start the design and marketing of all things Tax Day: baby-shower-meets-Monopoly-board-themed cards, decorations, and the like to be in the stores just after Valentine’s Day along with the St. Patrick’s Day and Easter stuff.
Eek, creating a new national holiday is overwhelming. Maybe I’ll shoot for next year. Today, I’ll celebrate my babies in blissful ignorance to the cost versus tax savings ratios. Tomorrow, I’ll go back to worrying about keeping my fridge stocked (an impossible task) and buying new shoes/clothes for four growing boys (a costly endeavor), paying for college (ack… one of them better be smart and/or athletic) and saving for retirement (groan… this is beginning to seem like it will never happen).
So, please, let me be. It’s Tax Day and I’ve got four healthy, beautiful tax write offs and a bottle of wine.
Whole Lotta P 