Well, the Romanian government has sure gone and put its foot in its mouth this time.

And for any government official who fancied himself a prince, that foot may now taste like frog.

For the first time in that nation's history, you see, witches must pay income tax-16 percent of what they earn.

The witches are not pleased, threatening curses, warts, and smaller than normal attendance at soccer matches.

According to the Associated Press, Romania doesn't joke about witches, with President Traian Basecu known to wear purple to ward off evil. The guy's probably wrapped up in it like a mummy these days.

But what did you expect from the country that gave the world Dracula?

A dozen outraged witches, the AP reports, collected as much of the poisonous mandrake plant as they could find and threw it into the Danube River to hex government officials.

Consider it their version of the Boston Tea Party.

Good thing for King George III there weren't any witches and mandrake plants near Boston harbor or he may have suffered a fate worse than death and, yes, found himself turned into President Warren G. Harding (talk about your curses).

Looking at the glass as half-full, at least the Romanian witches never had to do anything with Warren G. Harding.

In today's enlightened world, the United States government does not tax witches, nor does it countenance any currency bearing the likeness of President Warren G. Harding.

This nation may be a tax-happy smorgasbord of cold cuts on rye but we continue that fine tradition first observed by our Founding Fathers and leave our witches entirely alone.

In Romania, on the other hand, witches are literally considered no different than any other self-employed person, so they will start paying taxes and making contributions to health and pension programs.

Count on the health contributions to be potions containing wings of bats and eyes of newts.

Obamacare it ain't. (Or is, depending on your point of view).

Cynics, of course, might argue that the Romanian government shouldn't expect a windfall in witch-based income tax profits. A cynic might argue that any witch worth her cauldron would conjure up a tax-proof curse, or cast a spell whereby the

Romanian government gave them 10 million leu (Romanian dollars) a year in tax-free income, courtesy box seats at the opera, and as many bats as they could put their hands on.

Not being a cynic, I suspect the Romanian government is probably smart enough to employ its own witches to counter any such shenanigans and pays them 16 percent bonuses.

Meanwhile, most of the witches in Romania argue they don't earn enough to pay taxes, which may be true. When was the last time you saw an advertisement on satellite television or an internet website homepage for a witch? Ads for political candidates don't count.

Frankly, Romania should simply leave their witches alone. They haven't been taxed before, so why start now? A motor vehicle tax on their broomsticks is probably next, so cue Jim Gilmore.

Politics being what it is, of course, the Romanian government might find itself rescinding the tax if there is a great public outcry on behalf of the witches.

Keep watching those poll numbers.

Politicians are always worried about witch way the wind blows.

Frog legs, anyone?