Christopher and I are so bad at keeping up with our “date nights”. His schedule between ROTC, NG and online college courses is so jammed pack when he is home he is still usually doing paperwork for one or the other. BUT … it’s tax season! I love, love, love tax time for it means a grown-up date. Our routine is to harass and joke around with our tax lady for an hour or so, she is such a hoot. Then we go out to eat and chillax. Love it! So this morning I ran out and bought a new outfit, gave myself a mani, pedi and facial. Shaved my legs! I was all dolled up and ready to go. I felt like a million tax-free bucks. That’s when I got the call from my dear husband to see if I ordered the pizza. He forgot our tax routine. Pout. Of course I handle this like a true girl and didn’t say a word about it and just waited for him to figure out why I was pouting. *lol* He never did for our night had an oops. They ate their dumb old pizza, I didn’t because of course I’m pouting. Then we gathered up our paperwork and headed out the door. Our tax lady knows we always go out and she’ll be sure to ask us what our plans for the evening are. Well our appointment didn’t get that far. Someone forgot one of the W-2s at home. We aren’t pointing fingers here since I feel we are both at fault but maybe more me than him. He didn’t place it on my tax pile BUT he did ask me to grab it BUT I was busy with the puppy and forgot. Grrr. Now we get to do it all again on Monday night. Yeah for taxes on Valentine’s Day.