The Tax Man

My town sent a nice man to come reassess our home (insert sarcasm here) which is so terrific, I can't even tell you.
Please Mr. Tax Man can I pay more property taxes even though they are the highest in the country and even though you just upped our sales tax this summer? Please?!!!?

Anywhoooo, they were scheduled to come out to our neighborhood between this day and that date, I paid no attention. Yesterday I went home to visit my poor sister in the hospital so she wouldn't kill herself from boredom and to tell her Hey! I didn't kill your kids or mine while they were in my care, and let her bask in my parental awesomeness.
She did.
I guess yesterday was my tax reassessment day and I missed the guy but he left a lovely note stating he will be back between 5:30-7:30pm. Great!
I returned to my lovely over taxed home at about 5pm and I made dinner and went about my business until I heard a knock on my front door.
Tax man cometh.

Here is a list of things that poor man had seen and heard in my home the 3.5 minutes he was here:
2 nude children running around
1 nude child crying that she hurt "her vagina"
my "hottie" underwear drying on top of the washer
2 nude children bathing
a filthy, gross, cat puke ridden basement
1 bra strewn on vanity chair

All in all I would say it was a great time. He made me feel better by telling me he has seen it all: dead animals, nude people, nude kids, filthy houses. Which made me wonder all at once, where do I apply for this job of his and when can I get this guy drunk because those are some great drinking stories.