Bees was tellin' Sandy a couple of threads below to pick one of the divorcing parties and represent that one only. At one time, I would've argued with him about that, as I did returns for a similar couple like some time ago and one of the board members (probably that dratted jainen) was chewing on me at the time for doing it.
I usually do what I want about these things, regardless of IRS rules or the advice of others, if I think it doesn't amount to much (much ado about nothing). However, I'm now like that guy they were fixin' to hang who said "This is sure gonna be a lesson to me."
A couple of months ago I heard one of my old-time, elderly clients had died. She was a remarried widow with lots of kids from her first marriage; the husband, a former widower, also had many kids, but none together. Anyway, everything was hers--cash, house, farm--all he has is a $7K annual pension + SS. Everybody lives close around each other in the surrounding hills (good spot for a feud) about 30 miles from here.
They'd always filed a joint return. One of Mom's daughters called-wants me to file MFJ. No problem, I think--they're simple salt-of-the-earthers. The old man always seemed like a pleasant sort when they came to the office together previously. The girl says she's the executor. Three days later, Pop's daughter comes in; says she's handling things--wants to give me instructions--I stall--she leaves her papers.
Next week, Mom's daughter calls--says all hell has broken loose over the spoils--kids are into it big-time. Pop's son and daughter-in-law show up at farm to get some stuff; one of Mom's offspring pulls a shotgun (he don't like them none) and orders them off the property. They get a deputy sheriff--he's arrested for terroristic threatening. While they're making bail, Pop (who's moved out) goes to the house, rips the carpet up off the living room floor, and makes off with it. She delivers a 30-minute harangue cataloging the old man's devious nature and despicable character. Managing to get a word in edgewise, I tell her I can't do the return. Hangs up. She's mad (at me).
Two days later Pop's daughter is back to see how I'm comin' along. I hand her papers back--say I can't do it (I'm not touchin' any of this mess with a ten-foot pole). Asks "Why not?" I say it's my understanding there's a disagreement (putting it mildly) between the heirs. She says "Problems? What problems? I know of no disagreement. Everything's fine, etc. etc." Finally, I'm forced to bluntly say I'm not doing any of the returns; period. Huffs out. She's mad (at me).
Last I heard, everybody's hired lawyers (I don't know how many). No more fence-straddlin' for me.
I usually do what I want about these things, regardless of IRS rules or the advice of others, if I think it doesn't amount to much (much ado about nothing). However, I'm now like that guy they were fixin' to hang who said "This is sure gonna be a lesson to me."
A couple of months ago I heard one of my old-time, elderly clients had died. She was a remarried widow with lots of kids from her first marriage; the husband, a former widower, also had many kids, but none together. Anyway, everything was hers--cash, house, farm--all he has is a $7K annual pension + SS. Everybody lives close around each other in the surrounding hills (good spot for a feud) about 30 miles from here.
They'd always filed a joint return. One of Mom's daughters called-wants me to file MFJ. No problem, I think--they're simple salt-of-the-earthers. The old man always seemed like a pleasant sort when they came to the office together previously. The girl says she's the executor. Three days later, Pop's daughter comes in; says she's handling things--wants to give me instructions--I stall--she leaves her papers.
Next week, Mom's daughter calls--says all hell has broken loose over the spoils--kids are into it big-time. Pop's son and daughter-in-law show up at farm to get some stuff; one of Mom's offspring pulls a shotgun (he don't like them none) and orders them off the property. They get a deputy sheriff--he's arrested for terroristic threatening. While they're making bail, Pop (who's moved out) goes to the house, rips the carpet up off the living room floor, and makes off with it. She delivers a 30-minute harangue cataloging the old man's devious nature and despicable character. Managing to get a word in edgewise, I tell her I can't do the return. Hangs up. She's mad (at me).
Two days later Pop's daughter is back to see how I'm comin' along. I hand her papers back--say I can't do it (I'm not touchin' any of this mess with a ten-foot pole). Asks "Why not?" I say it's my understanding there's a disagreement (putting it mildly) between the heirs. She says "Problems? What problems? I know of no disagreement. Everything's fine, etc. etc." Finally, I'm forced to bluntly say I'm not doing any of the returns; period. Huffs out. She's mad (at me).
Last I heard, everybody's hired lawyers (I don't know how many). No more fence-straddlin' for me.
Comment