You Gotta Love The IRS

I didn't sleep worth two cents last night; I was all nerved up.  I tossed and turned all night long. When the alarm went off this morning, I felt like I hadn't had any sleep at all.  My stomach was in knots all day long, too.  You see, the reason for my anxiety was a gruesome letter from the IRS.

Most of you probably don't know this, but my parents had a cleaning company in the late 80's.  We were incorporated (first big mistake) and I was in charge of keeping the books and filling out all of the tax forms.  After I practically developed an ulcer over all of the income tax forms, and after Mom and Dad got fed up over all of the hassle with the taxes and such, they disolved the corporation and closed the business in 1996.  We paid all of the taxes, and never heard anything from the IRS until Friday, when we got a letter from them saying they hadn't received our corporate income tax return for the year 2004.  "WTF?" was Mom's, Dad's, and my first reaction.  We closed the company, filed all the appropriate forms and paid all of the taxes that we owed.  Yet ten years later we hear from the IRS asking how come they didn't get their returns for 2004.  

I called the toll-free number listed on the letter, and was surprised that I actually got a live person on my first attempt.  She only put me on hold once before telling me that the IRS "probably" didn't notice that the last return I sent them said "Final Return" and told me to just send in a copy of the final return.  I thanked her for her time and hung up, not telling her that all of the tax papers and everything connected with the cleaning company were destroyed in the Great Basement Flood of 2003.  Actually, it was only 3 inches of water in the basement, but it was enough to ruin some boxes of papers that were on the basement floor.  Quick Thinking Puddin called the Kentucky Revenue Cabinet, and simply asked if they could send me a copy of the company's final return. No problem, they said.  So now all I have to do is wait till I get that information, and then call the IRS back and see if they can send me the proper forms from 1996 to fill out.  As Bernie Mac says, pray for me, America.  I'll keep you posted.