Grab a chair and a couple of root beers...

Especially for those of you familiar with U.S. tax law.

I was chattin' with my mom today, and she told me something that has me pretty much frothing at the mouth. Now, Mom is closing in on 82, and while she may be dithery about a few things here and there, one thing she is sharp as a tack on is her finances. So, when she said she had something worrying her about her savings account, I sat up and paid attention.

Seems she noticed a couple of charges on her savings account, 12 cents here, 14 cents there, just since March I think she said. This worried her, so she immediately called the bank to find out what was going on.

Hold on to your hats, you're going to love this.

She managed to get a hold of a flesh-and-blood type and asked why she was getting hit with these little charges. The bank employee told Mom that she had undeclared income, and the IRS was charging her by taking those little 12 to 14 cent charges out of her savings account.

Mom said, "What undeclared income??? I'm 81 years old, I'm on Social Security and my retirement from the retail store I worked for, and I don't really make enough to actually file taxes, but I did this year because of my husband's death, so... what are you talking about??"

Well, my dad used to work in the oil fields back in the fifties and sixties. Back then, sometimes the oil company who was hiring my dad's company to drill wells couldn't necessarily afford to pay their bill, so they'd compromise by offering the workers shares in the output of the well when it came through. And for a while, my dad actually got enough of a supplementary income from those wells to make the difference whenever any of us got sick or needed shoes, etc. But by the late seventies, that petered out until it cost more to mail the checks than my parents actually got in the checks. I mean, can you imagine getting a check for 4 cents??

They sold most of their shares in those wells over the years, and by last year, had only one left. It started paying them a whopping ten bucks every quarter. Thing is, they still had to declare all those shares on their taxes, even though they weren't producing much, and they did that faithfully every year.

Okay, so this year, my mom finally got tired of dealing with it, even though the Flaky Sister told her to hang on to that last well, because "It might pay off, Mother, you never know!!" And Mom said, "Oh, honey, that well is almost completely played out! And even if it wasn't, I'm kinda sick of it, you know?" So... she sold it. This year. For $75, because... that was all it was worth. Barely.

That's the undeclared income she's supposedly being taxed on. The $75 that she made this year from selling that well.

Auntie smells a big, fat rat.

So I started asking Mom a ton of questions. Did she get any letters from the IRS?

No.

Did the bank notify her of these charges?

No. She had to call them to find out what was going on.

Has she heard from anyone from the IRS, period?

No.

Now, 12 cents sounds like a piddlin' little amount, right? A small amount no one will really fuss about or even blink at, or maybe not even notice or pay attention to. That's part of what bothers me about it. Why would the IRS, of all people, only charge such a tiny amount, most specifically without notifying her? Oh, and she's called the bank multiple times on this issue, talking to different folks each time and they all tell her the same damn thing.

WTF??

I thought the IRS has to notify you in writing if they are going to garnish your wages/income, etc, before they take action. This whole situation just sounds... off.

Mom said she is going to go to the bank, and I said, "Whatever you do, do not go alone."

"Well, Auntie, since I can't drive, I'll have to have someone take me, so I won't be alone..." she said with amusement.

"No," I said. "I mean, don't go into the bank alone, don't let them separate you from whoever takes you..."

"Oh, no, no, no," she said calmly. "I have no intention of doing that, believe me. I plan to ask the Flaky Sister..."

"Mom, I'd much rather you take the Brotherly One, please," I said, referring to the Blonde Sister's husband. Mainly because if the Flaky Sister goes, she won't challenge them, she'll just nod and go along with what they say, especially if they make the explanation complicated enough. I would also like for her to get the family lawyer involved. Just because.

So... any of you have any clue what this might be? Because really, I'm at a loss. It's bad enough she's only going to get half of what little was left of Dad's retirement and half of his Social Security benefits without some screwball bank charges being thrown at her to devour what is left of their savings. And she can't sell the house until the will finishes going through probate.

AARGH!!! *rips out hair* Maybe one day, I'll tell you about the royal reaming the oil company Dad worked for pulled on its retirees, but not right now. I"m too... cranky.

You know what blows my mind? Whenever I post a fic on skyhawke, I always check to make sure it posted correctly. There's a delay of like... ten seconds, maybe, from the time I post to the time I go to the list page... and there will already be three or four hits.

O_O!!

Are people like... hovering, just waiting for me to post something???

*boggles*

Of course, I know they're probably just checking to see if something new is up, so it's just a coincidence, but DA-YUM!! It freaks me out!!

Okay, so I have to take Miss Priss to the doctor, because she's also dealing with strep again. And I called the Husbandly One to let him know what time and all that, and he says, haltingly, "Be sure to let the doctor know that she, er... you know... um, started her... her... you know... um..."

"Her... period?" I said helpfully.

Man, you could feel the flinch through the phone!!!

"Yes!" he said, and moaned. Yes, friends, he actually moaned over the phone! "I just can't say it!" he almost wailed.

"Why? You can say it when it's me," I said playfully.

"That's different!!" he said stubbornly. "It's you! Not my baby!!"

*falling apart laughing*

I'm gettin' waaaay too much enjoyment out of this, aren't I?