The Stuff To Bed By Our Ass

Trevor and I are starting the task of going through all our finances, combining and budgeting.

Has to be done.

Trevor, being the amazing man that he is, is taking ownership of this odious but necessary task.

Last night, he imported our bank accounts into a budgeting tool, so we could begin the process.

This morning he was still excited to get going, and over breakfast he was playing with the tool on his ipad. He came into the bedroom and said,

"We need to start going through and categorizing charges. Like checks. We need to be better about writing down all our check details. There is a check on your account for $400 or $500 - do you know what it is for?"

I couldn't think of what it would be for. I only usually write checks for my eyelashes and tithing - neither of which would be that amount.

I thought about it on the drive to work, and half way through it dawned on me - THE IRS!

The IRS decided to audit me for 2011. Asked for about $500 more. In 2013. LAMEST THING EVER. Claiming I didn't file all my wages on a job I had for a couple months. SERIOUSLY? I don't even remember what I did the entire year of 2011, let alone exactly how long I was in this one job until I got on at the church. I was/am so mad! So, I was forced to write a check for about $500 to the IRS. 

Mystery solved.

Since I was driving, I didn't want to text Trevor, so I used my good friend Siri to dictate a message. I use Siri all the time to dictate messages, mostly while driving - and am actually impressed with the accuracy.

I said,

"Siri, text my husband"

Siri brings up a text to Trevor and asks what I want to tell him.

I say,

"It just occurred to me what that check was for. The stupid IRS."

Siri writes and sends to Trevor,

"It just occurred to me what that check was for. The stuff to bed by our ass."

Trevor writes back,

"The stuff to bed by our ass?"

Way to go, Siri, way to go.

So, moral of the story is - Siri doesn't know what the IRS is, but she definitely knows it's an ass!

HAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!

Love,

Brittney