5 Hilarious Ways Mormons Spend their Tax Returns

Filling out taxes

By Seth McDiarmid

Each year on April 15, members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, sometimes called Mormons, endure tax day, which marks the end of the period during which the Internal Revenue Service accepts returns from U.S. citizens and the beginning of the period during which Mormons across the nation will guilt themselves into repentance because they want to spend the money on a new iPad instead of saving or donating to charity or making cookies for their non-LDS neighbors.

These  life-or-death tax-day decisions don’t end when tax day ends, and a lot of them can leave us feeling like Lehi and his family, struggling to hold on to our priorities while a mocking amalgamation of next-generation computer tablets, cartoony motor vehicles and the beautiful island of Hawai’i shout genuinely mean-spirited things at us from a floating and strangely-still-not-out-of-business Best Buy.

In the spirit of this day, I present the 5 ways Mormons spend their tax return:

1. Act out an epic internal struggle over whether or not they should pay a full tithe on the government’s check. Does it count as increase? Will I get more blessings? If I send my kids to BYU does it count as a down payment on their college fund?

2. Remodel their home instead of going on vacation. Because all those picture frames and a new piano aren’t going to buy themselves.

3. Pay for grad school instead of going on vacation. Because I got my bachelor’s degree in psychology.

4. Replace all the oatmeal in their food storage that the kids ate last year instead of goi—right. You get it.

5. Save up for a rainy day or 40. Because there are no giant rock-men around to help me build my ark.

Seth has been an active member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints since the age of eight. In his youth he tried to kill his poor parents by deliberately involving himself in more extracurricular activities than either of them had time or mortal energy to drive him to. Luckily for him, his parents are superhuman. Seth played soccer, hockey and any other team sport that involved arms, legs and fast-moving rubber spheroids, wrote short stories, poetry and music, and was far too involved in his High School's drama and mock trial programs for his social life's own good. Ice hockey stuck. So did writing. Seth doesn't know everything--but he knows that God and Jesus Christ live, that They love us, and that They always keep Their promises.