Once upon a time, in a land far away in the North, where there was a lot of snow, more than a hint of magic and a penchant for wearing a short green tunics, pointy hats and red and white striped tights (it’s a look, don’t knock it), there lived a short, plumpish elderly gentleman who generally sported a red suit with white vegan fluffy bits on it.
He was a busy chap, with a very long list of jobs and he relied heavily upon his staff (green tunics, stripy tights etc…) to assist him. Each year, he received so many demands from young human beings across the globe that he scarcely had time to think of himself and his dear wife. (All wives are dear, AREN’T THEY?). Occasionally, when things got on top of him, he would sneak away to the stable which adjoined his cosy home in the dark north, and have a quiet chat to the reindeer who lived there. They had a string of slightly odd names, which I won’t go into here. The only sensible name was ‘Rudolph’, but he let the side down by having an incredibly red nose which made him look as if he had a bit of a whiskey addiction.
Every time this happened, unbeknownst to the little red clad gentleman, a group of elves, for that is what the men and women in green actually were, followed him into the stable to check that he was alright. They listened to him talking to the reindeer, and if that seemed to sort the problem out, they quietly tiptoed away and left him in peace.
This particular year, however, the conversation was most definitely concerning them. It went something like this … “I have not a single idea what I am supposed to be doing now. Has any one of you got a clue? No, Donner, I have sorted the good children from the naughty. It isn’t that. Thanks for the thought Blitzen, but I have definitely finished all the railway sets. Yes, I know I forgot them last year, but this year they are done …”.
After a minute of two more of this, the elves could stand it no more. Things had never been this bad! They trooped out from behind Father Christmas’ sleigh, for yes, dear reader, the small chap in red was indeed him, and lined up in an anxious line.
Maximus, the first and eldest elf said “FC, old chap,” for they knew each other well, “FC, is there nothing we can do to help?” Next to Maximus, Tarquin (rather quietly spoken) expressed a similar concern. Dave, third in line said “Come on Boss, get it off your chest, we’ll help if we can”. The two remaining elves, Tara and Romily smiled and made encouraging noises. “Yes,” they said “We’ll absolutely do what we can.”
“Thank you all my friends; Max, Tarquin, Dave, you are great. Tara and Romily, what would I do without you?” Said Father Christmas. Then suddenly he slapped a hand to his forehead. “Of course!” He shouted. “How could I have been so forgetful?” You have all helped me and I’ve got it now!” The elves looked bemused. “It’s all in the names” said Father Christmas chuckling to himself. “Maximus, Tarquin and Dave … MTD, Making Tax Digital! This is first year I will have to make a return under MTD and I need to get the right software to do it. I wonder who ……? Then Tara and Romily … TR, Tax Return! I need to get the paperwork all organised and start working on that the minute Christmas night is over. I can’t be late for the January 31st deadline!”
Ah, what a shame that this happened in a land far away, or we should have been only to happy to assist! However, if you are unsure about Making Tax Digital or dealing with your Tax Return, you won’t need to work as hard to find help as FC did. Look no further, it’s right here on your doorstep. Call in office hours or email any time and one of our happy elves will be delighted to assist. Right gang, break open those packs of tights ….
Happy Christmas one and all, and “to all a good night!”