filing jointly again

i call up

my tax lady, Betty, in old

Manassas

Virginia,

and tell her,

i have some bad news, Betty.

i've known

her for 35 years now.

she does my taxes in a little

Cape Cod house

on the side of the road.

oh no,

what? she says. what's the bad news?

i got married again. 

i tell her.

i was smitten

by some financially bankrupt woman

and bit the bullet again.

third time's

the charm, right?

i'll be filing jointly again

this year.

oh no, she screams over the phone.

please, please tell me,

that you didn't do

something that stupid again.

ha ha,

i tell her,

just kidding, a little dark humor

for the Halloween season.

whew, she says,

readjusting the wig that

nearly fell 

off her head.

don't scare me like that anymore.