Tax day, April 15, was looming when an elderly woman showed up at the IRS.
She approached the clerk and said, “I’d like a thick stack of tax forms, please.”
The clerk looked surprised.
“Why do you need so many?”
“My son is going to help me with my taxes,” she replied.
“That sounds nice,” said the clerk. “Is he an accountant?”
“No.”
“A tax lawyer?”
“No.”
The clerk became curious.
“Then what does your son do?”
The elderly woman smiled proudly.
“He’s a magician.”
The clerk raised an eyebrow.
“A magician?”
“Yes. He can make money disappear faster than anyone I’ve ever seen.”
The clerk laughed.
“Well, in that case, you’d better take a few extra forms.”
The woman nodded.
“I thought so.”
She picked up the stack and started walking away.
The clerk called after her.
“Ma’am, just one more question. Does your son perform professionally?”
The woman stopped and smiled.
“No, he’s my husband.”
The clerk stared at her.
The woman winked.
“That’s why I need the extra forms.”
