Only two things in life are certain: death and taxes.
The unthinkable has finally happened - a mutiny that is corroding the DeWitt family from within. I am ashamed to inform you that one of my own alleged children has refused to pay his “Daddy Tax.”
That’s right, earlier this week one of my dependants, who I brought into this world with great pain at my wife’s delivery room bedside, who I carried around inside my body much longer than the nine months my wife brags about, claimed a tax exemption and flat-out refused to give me a piece of his mint chocolate Kit Kat bar! (I hear this new flavor is delicious, but now I may never know.)
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the concept of Daddy Tax, here is how it works. Suppose Dad buys his kid a pack of candy, paid for with Dad’s money that is earned while the kid is sipping Jungle Juice and watching cartoons at home. It’s only right that Dad be entitled to a few pieces out of that bag.
Suppose Dad, who puts shingles over the kid’s head and lights on to keep the monsters away at night, purchases the kid some nice, hot, salty French fries. It’s only fair and just that old Dad be allowed to steal the best ones right off the top, and maybe even take a sip of the kid’s soda as well.
Complying with the Daddy Tax Code is the least a kid can do. Besides, what better way to prepare them for real life as an adult in America than to get them accustomed to paying outrageous taxes at every level and expecting little in return.
As you can see, if there is only one tax in all of this Republic that is fair and just and beneficial, it is Daddy Tax.
I am proud to say that, before this ungrateful uprising by my little insurgents, I had my taxpayers so indoctrinated and compliant that they would each voluntarily bring my Daddy Tax without the need for me to get out of my Lazy Boy and ask for it, like peasants bringing tribute to their king. It was a golden era in the Dad regime.
But alas, that was before the Great Kid Coup of 2020.
While I won’t name this Daddy Tax-evader, rest assured that all of my tax-paying constituents will be facing heavy fines and penalties this fiscal term. There will be a full audit of this year’s Easter baskets, and I may even have to garnish some wages come Trick or Treat time.
Jesus said “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s; and to God the things that are God’s.” So you brats better give unto Dad what is Dad’s, or I’m going to stop paying my Santa Claus Taxes. (Don’t get me started on that guy!)
And I’ll be waiting for you on Halloween.
Michael M. DeWitt Jr. is the managing editor of The Hampton County Guardian newspaper in South Carolina. He is an award-winning humorist, journalist and outdoor writer and the author of two books.