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By Jennifer Savage
As tulips start peaking through the dirt and the hills green up it’s time for a little father-daughter bonding in my world. It happens this time every year. My dad and I start calling each other in January to talk possibilities. By March these phone calls have become more frequent with details of research, news stories and changes we’ve heard about. By early April, with the big day a mere two weeks away, I’ll surly call him to ask yet another question. It’s tax season and my dad is a numbers man. Our conversation always goes a little something like this:
“Yo, Russ,” I’ll say when he answers the phone.
“Gebe!” It’s a name he’s called me since I can remember.
“What’s up?”
“Oh, I’ve just got a column of numbers,” he’ll say from his house in South Carolina.
“Got a question. How do I count the mortgage interest for our house in Arlee?”
“You can’t count it on the Schedule E and then itemize it. Do it all on the Schedule E. Keep the rental separate.”
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