Had all proceeded as planned, my youngest son could have done my taxes and saved me a bundle in fees. He went to Bentley and majored in accounting. Once his junior year arrived and the foot hit the accelerator, he, too, had misgivings.
He came home one day plagued with anxiety. I thought the kid flunked out or something. That's when he broke the news.
"Dad, I changed my major."
"What?" I said, falling off my chair.
"I switched to marketing. You always said you wanted me to be happy. My guidance counselor worked with me on a new plan."
The kid wound up getting a job with Fidelity handling their retirement accounts and helps to bring millions of dollars into the company. The world is his oyster now.
My fifth season ends every April 15. Not that I wait until then to file my returns. But like every season, there must be a reason ... and I look forward to that date with a sigh of relief.
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Photographer and writer Tom Vartabedian is retired from The Haverhill Gazette. He contributes this regular column.