OPINION
Applying for your child's IRD number is a rite of passage as sentimental and meaningful as baby's first tooth, plus they can do a lot more with it and it lasts forever. So many rites, so many tears! First steps, first words, first day of school – what agony it is to watch that embryonic newt evolve into a creature that as soon as it can walk on two legs learns to walk away, far away, beyond our grasp. And so it was that I fought back tears as I got a copy of Minka's first statutory declaration to support her IRD number application (IR595) for a child under 16 years of age. She has gone off to work. She is bringing home the bacon. But not all the bacon; the tax department must have their rasher, to lay the roads and staff the hospitals. She too must shoulder that burden. All it took was an IR595.
Applying for your child's IRD number is a piece of cake. Take the form with current supporting documents (documents that have not expired) for an "In person verification" to an authorised Inland Revenue agent. You must provide one original document from Category A and one original document from Category B with your application, as well as a legible photocopy of each of your documents. If you are applying for a child who is in your care and they are under 16, you must provide an original document and legible photocopy which shows the relationship between you and the child, if not already shown in the category A document for the child, e.g. a New Zealand full birth certificate issued on or after January 1 1998 for the child … What? So baffling, so confusing! I bent my head to the task, tore my hair out, held my head in my hands – parenting had once again reduced me to tears, but these were tears of rage. I plunged on, determined to solve the riddle of the IR595.
Applying for your child's IRD number demands fortitude and resolve. Category A demanded a copy of her birth certificate. I turned the house upside down. We all accumulate so much paperwork, so many documents! Drawers were emptied, folders perused … No luck. But that was okay; her passport was also listed as an acceptable form of ID. I turned the house upside down. Again, no luck. We all accumulate so much junk, so many pins, nails, screws, tacks, various assorted metal shards! With bleeding fingers, I emailed Internal Affairs and paid $36 for a copy of her birth certificate. While I was waiting for it to arrive, the original copy turned up. I was close to signing off the IR595.
Applying for your child's IRD number Category B is an exercise in tipping your life out in front of your eyes in slow motion and seeing what a hash you've made of it. It demanded I furnish a driver's licence. I don't drive. The easiest of the other options was a letter from an employer. I turned the house upside down and then raided my email inbox by typing "contract" and "employment" into search. No luck. I remembered I once got an email confirming a job offer from someone in HR with an amusing name, but the name escaped me. It can't have been that funny. Neither, at this point, was the IR595.
