A Yuletide Guide to End-of-Life Planning
Right, lets face it, folks. Santa aint getting any younger. Sure, he laughs like a gravy-drenched Christmas pud and has a beard that could double as a woolly jumper for a yeti, but even Father Christmas can’t outrun that swine Father Time.
This year, amidst the mince pies and mistletoe, the jolly old chap’s been scratching his head (well, stroking his beard really) over a question weightier than a turkey stuffed with sprouts: What happens when Santa chucks on his slippers and calls it a day?
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “But Santa’s got reindeer, magic, and enough custard to fill the Thames! He’s immortal!” But even reindeer need their hooves trimmed, magic’s fickle as a summer’s day in Blackpool, and let’s be honest, all that sherry can’t be doing his ticker any favours.
So, Santa’s been having a bit of a think – an “elf-flection”, if you will (it’s a thing, honest!). He’s been poring over dusty scrolls in the North Pole library that could make the Bodleian Library blush, consulting with Mrs. Claus (who’s seen more Christmases than the Christmas tree decorations), and even considering a new comb-over (don’t faint!).
But the big question keeping him up past his cocoa bedtime is who takes over the sleigh reins when he finally throws in the towel for a deckchair and a bacardi and tonic.
Now, there are options, each with their own, ahem, “quirks”. Take the elves, for example. Loyal, efficient, and practically workshop-trained for the job. But have you ever seen an elf try to land a sleigh? It’s like watching a corgi pilot a hot air balloon – adorable, chaotic, and a recipe for a chimney-sized disaster.
Then there’s Rudolph. Sure, he’s got the nose for the job, literally, but let’s not forget his track record: prone to reindeer games, easily distracted by a shiny bauble, and not exactly known for his leadership skills.
Imagine Christmas Eve where Rudolph decides to follow a disco ball instead of the North Star? Let’s just say the presents wouldn’t be the only things getting roasted.
And of course, there’s Mrs. Claus. She’s got the brains, the baking skills, and the sass to run the show. But let’s be real, would the world be ready for a Santa in a floral apron and sensible shoes? Plus, who’s gonna bake all those mince pies? (Spoiler alert: it ain’t the elves.)
So, what’s Santa’s cunning plan? Well, he’s decided to take a leaf out of the British book and get himself a Lasting Power of Attorney (LPA). That way, if he ever gets stuck in a chimney with a case of soot flu or has a sugar crash that puts him in a candy coma, someone he trusts can make decisions on his behalf. And who knows, maybe that someone will be you!
So, this Christmas, as you’re tucking into your turkey and belting out carols off-key, remember: even Santa needs a bit of end-of-life planning. Because, let’s be honest, a world without Christmas is about as jolly as a lump of coal in your stocking.
So, raise a glass of eggnog to the big fella and his quest for the perfect LPA. After all, who knows, next year you might be the one delivering the pressies! Just try not to get stuck in the chimney, alright?
And remember, folks, even if Santa does retire, the Christmas spirit lives on. It’s in the giving, the family, and the deliciousness of a good cuppa after stuffing your face.
So, spread the cheer, be kind to your fellow elves (and reindeer), and maybe consider getting your own LPA – you never know when you might need a bit of elf-ternative help!
Happy holidays, everyone! And may your chimneys be wide, your stockings full, and your LPAs always up to date.
P.S. Santa still hasn’t decided on the floral apron. Don’t judge him. He’s earned his holiday wardrobe.
PPS. You could always get a Will and LPA package as a present to your self and one for a friend .