Francetic Tax Resolution - April 2020

APRIL 2020




A Throwback to Easter of 1993

Easter is coming up this month, and that means it’s time to start planning a family dinner with my brothers and sister. Now that our kids are grown up, we make it a point to get together every Easter and share good food and laughter at the same table. It’s a great tradition, but every time I see Easter bunnies and pastel eggs start popping up, I can’t help but get a little nostalgic for the time when my kids were little, toddling over to their Easter baskets full of candy and gifts. There’s one Easter in particular I’ll never forget. The year was 1993, and my oldest son Clinton was about 5 months old. He was a bit young for an Easter basket, but my mom gave him a little stuffed chicky as a gift. He absolutely adored that fluffy chick — it turned out to be his best buddy of all time! He took it everywhere and would go into a panic if we left the house without it. If we got into the car and started driving before he could grab it, he’d scream, “Wait! I don’t have my chicky!” until we turned the car around and went back for it. It was the same story when Clinton was trying to go to sleep at night. Sometimes he’d just start yelling, and my former wife and I would run in to check on him, thinking he was sick. When we got to his room, he’d scream, “I can’t find my chicky!” I can’t count the number of times I tore his whole bed apart looking for that thing. Usually I’d find it jammed down between the bed and the wall. Clutching it, Clinton would finally feel safe enough to go back to sleep. Over the years, he rubbed the stuffed animal for comfort so often that all its fluffy feathers came off, and by the time he was 4 or 5, it was pretty much bald. At that point, it started leaking stuffing from little holes. Whenever a hole appeared, we’d call my mom “for surgery” and she’d sew it up. There must have been about 2,000 sutures all over that chicken by the time Clinton finally stopped carrying it around! Clinton still has that chicky to this day. His wife got a real kick out of this story the first time I told it, and I hope you do, too! Really, I think most parents have a story like that about their kids — every kid has a favorite stuffed animal or blanket that they drag around until it dies. But for me, Easter definitely brings up those old memories!

documents or fill a client in on the progress of their case, I end up meeting their spouses, kids, and pets and hearing stories like the one I just told about Clinton and his chicky. I’d honestly call most of my clients good friends, and that makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world. We trust one another, and that’s confirmed whenever they send a friend, coworker, or family member my way for help with a tax problem. If you know someone who could use my help, please don’t hesitate to do the same. You can rest assured knowing your loved one will be in great hands (and we might even end up swapping Easter stories). Paul Francetic

One of my favorite things about my business is getting to know my clients and their families, too. Because I often make house calls to drop off



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