One of my older clients died Friday- he was 71- and I’d just spoken to him the day before. I wondered why he didn’t come in on Friday- but it’s tax season and I didn’t call- I was busy all day. And I didn’t worry, because he was just dropping something off. His daughter stopped by and told us today.
We called him Crankypants because he was the first time we ever met him. He had been the “boss” for a government branch for a long time, and had just retired. His daughter was the one who referred him to us and warned us he was a crankypants.
He was always sweet as could be after that. But we always called him crankypants.
Rest in peace, Crankypants, I thought you were a pretty nifty guy.
