Nanny Piggins
and the Best Day Ever
Nanny Piggins was sitting at the breakfast table reading a rather thrilling romance novel. She encouraged all the children to read trashy literature at the dining table because it kept them quiet. And she had discovered that no matter what they might say to the contrary, adults like their children quiet, much more than they like them to have pure minds. She was just getting to a good bit (This is the best thing about a thrilling romance – there is a good bit on every page, sometimes two good bits) when her daydream was interrupted by Mr Green coughing. Not the cough of someone with an illness. But the cough of someone who wants to speak but does not know how to start. So Nanny Piggins stuck a slice of toast in her book to mark the page and waited to hear what he had to say.
'Nanny Piggins, I believe the children are due to start back at school tomorrow,' said Mr Green.
Nanny Piggins knew absolutely nothing about this but she cunningly hid her ignorance with the guarded reply, 'Yes.'
'They'll be needing new uniforms and equipment, I suppose,' he went on.
Again Nanny Piggins found herself wildly out of her depth. Being a pig, she had never attended school herself. So she had no idea how you needed to equip yourself. She cleverly encouraged Mr Green to give more information by simply saying, 'I suppose.'
Mr Green had obviously given a lot of thought to the next speech because it came out very suddenly and precisely. 'Well, I'll give you $500 to sort it out. If you need any more, let me know.' And with that he took a white envelope out of his suit pocket and placed it on the table.
All the children's eyes were fixed on the envelope, as indeed were Nanny Piggins'. Th e conversation was becoming stranger and stranger. She did not want to reveal her ignorance but it was getting ridiculous. She needed to understand what was going on. 'What is this?' she asked politely, nodding towards the envelope.
'The money, of course,' said Mr Green, as he was getting up.
'Of course,' agreed Nanny Piggins, pretending to be knowledgeable. Nodding her head as though she found it perfectly natural that Mr Green should hide cash inside an envelope, as if it were too shameful to be seen by daylight.
'I will be home late tonight. I trust you will be all right with the children?' he said. Even though Mr Green paid Nanny Piggins to be his nanny, he still could not entirely convince himself that she was willing to spend long periods of time with his family. He was relieved to hear Nanny Piggins' willing 'Oh, yes.' It meant he could enjoy his dinner sitting at his desk, where it was quiet and peaceful and he could bill his time to a client as he ate.
Nanny Piggins and the children waited until they heard Mr Green close the front door behind him before they rushed into a huddle around the envelope. They all wanted to see the cash, so Nanny Piggins lovingly removed it from the envelope. The money was in the form of five crisp $100 notes. Nanny Piggins became quite misty-eyed, the notes were so beautiful to behold.
'What a lovely lot of money!' she exclaimed.
'Uniforms are ridiculously overpriced,' explained Derrick. 'They can charge what they like because they know you have to buy them.'
'You do?' asked Nanny Piggins. This was news to her. 'But what are these "uny-forums" exactly?'
'Didn't you ever have to wear one in the circus?' asked Samantha, feeling both surprised and envious.
'I've never even heard of them before,' Nanny Piggins assured her.
'They are horrible, uncomfortable clothes that you have to wear every day so that you match everybody else and nobody looks different,' explained Michael.
'Oh.' This was a concept Nanny Piggins understood. 'You mean like costumes?'
'Sort of,' agreed Samantha. 'Except they are always made in the dullest colours and the ugliest shapes, so that everyone looks as unattractive as possible.'
'But why? Wouldn't it be better to look fabulous?' asked Nanny Piggins. That was certainly the object of all the costumes she had ever worn.
'Oh no,' explained Michael. 'People like children to look awful. Because it makes them pleased that they're not children anymore'.
'It seems terribly cruel,' Nanny Piggins muttered. Humans baffled her. They always talked about how they just wanted their children to be happy. Th en they seemed to devise endless systems and schedules to ensure that they were not. 'And you have to wear these "uny-things" to school?' Nanny Piggins asked. She was trying to get all this new information as straight in her head as possible.
'That's right,' said Derrick.
Nanny Piggins could not hide the full extent of her ignorance any further. She had another question to ask. 'So, what exactly is school? Exactly.'
'What's school?!' exclaimed Derrick. 'Did you never have to go?'
He could not believe anybody as clearly knowledgeable about so many important things, such as how to make fake blood and what was the best type of stick for making a slingshot, could have had no formal education.
'No, you never have to do anything at the circus,' explained Nanny Piggins. 'That's the whole reason people run away there. To escape tyranny.'
'So you could just eat chocolate? Every meal of the day?!' asked Michael, hardly believing his ears.
'Of course,' said Nanny Piggins. 'Many do. Particularly bearded ladies.'
'Well, we have to go to school,' explained Sam antha.
'How often?' asked Nanny Piggins, imagining that it must be an institution used only for occasional punishment, only when children were caught being utterly wicked.
'We have to go every day,' Michael told her.
'What? How monstrously cruel. Every single day?!' she exclaimed.
'Well, from Monday to Friday,' Derrick admitted honestly.
'But still,' exclaimed Nanny Piggins. 'They force you to go! Even on sunny days when the weather is perfect for picnics?'
'Even then,' the children regretfully assured her.
'And even on rainy days when the weather is perfect for going to the cinema?' asked Nanny Piggins disbelievingly.
'Then too,' the children added sadly.
'That sounds so terribly undemocratic,' said Nanny Piggins. She was deeply shocked. 'I thought we fought wars against dictators to prevent these sorts of things? Isn't this exactly why the French cut the heads off all their kings and queens?'
The children's knowledge of history was even less precise than Nanny Piggins', but they were happy to agree with someone so sympathetic on this point. 'We thought so.'
'But who came up with such a mean-spirited idea?' asked Nanny Piggins. She was becoming increasingly horrified by the widely accepted brutality of universal education.
'The government,' Derrick informed her.
'Of course, I might have known,' said Nanny Piggins. 'All the greatest psychopaths and evil villains end up in politics. If the government is behind it I suppose there is nothing that can be done.'
'I'm afraid not,' agreed Derrick.
'They do seem to ruin everything,' added Samantha.
'But still,' said Nanny Piggins, thoughtfully eyeing the lovely cash on the table, 'I find it hard to believe that it will cost a whole $500 to buy three uniforms.'
'We need equipment too,' Samantha reminded her. Samantha wanted a share in $500 pocket money as much as any sane girl. But she was also tremendously afraid of teachers, especially new teachers, and especially afraid of what a new teacher might say to a girl who had no pens or paper to write with.
'What sort of equipment?' asked Nanny Piggins absentmindedly. Her brain was already turning over much more interesting possibilities for their newfound windfall.
'We need pens and exercise books,' explained Samantha.
'And I need a geometry set,' added Derrick. In truth, he had no idea whether he would be studying geometry or not. But he was sure that if Barry Nichols was in his class he would like a compass. For self-defence as well as drawing circles.
'Yes, yes, we can get that later. But I'm sure the bulk of this can be invested in something more worthwhile,' said Nanny Piggins.
* * *
Happily, as it turned out, Nanny Piggins' idea of a good investment was to buy four tickets to an amusement park. The children had the most wonderful day. They went on all sorts of terrifying rides. On some they were flung high into the air until they were convinced they were going to die. And on others they were spun around and around until they were utterly sick.
In fact, Michael was sick. Fortunately the ride was going at full speed at the time and the vomit flew cleanly out of his mouth and onto the face of the person behind him. So Nanny Piggins did not have to trouble herself with cleaning up his clothes.
And at lunchtime Nanny Piggins bought them lunch, right there in the park, even though the prices were ludicrously overblown. Nanny Piggins actually let them have hot dogs and hamburgers, and four cups of soft drink each. It was pure joy. Mr Green would have dropped dead of apoplexy if he ever found out they did not take their own sandwiches.
It was a wonderful day. But, regrettably, this won derfulness had come at a price. By mid-afternoon the $500 had been reduced to $89. Samantha had enjoyed the fun park every bit as much as the boys but, seeing the modest collections of notes and coins now stored in the dignity of the envelope, she was feeling the first symptoms of panic.
'I don't see how we can buy three uniforms for $89,' she worried. 'Let alone equipment.'
Nanny Piggins was busy savouring her third helping of fairy floss and she was not going to let such practical concerns ruin her sugary bliss. 'I'm sure we will think of something,' she told Samantha optimistically. Then, remembering that she was the nanny and if she wanted to keep her job, she had better put some effort into it, she decided to get a sense of the enormity of the problem before her. 'So what exactly does a uniform consist of?' she asked.
The apparently complete level of their Nanny's ignorance was beginning to scare Samantha more and more. 'Well, the boys must wear grey trousers and shirts.'
This caught Nanny Piggins' attention. She sat bolt upright immediately. 'But grey isn't Derrick's colour at all!' argued Nanny Piggins, bewildered that neither the government nor the school had sense enough to realise this.
'That doesn't matter. All the boys have to wear the same,' Michael explained.
'How brutal,' Nanny Piggins shuddered. 'I'm almost afraid to ask what the girls are forced to wear.'
'We have to wear a dark green tartan dress,' said Samantha.
'Tartan? What? You mean, you have to dress up as if you were Scottish?' Nanny Piggins asked dis believingly.
'Well, yes,' admitted Samantha.
'How very strange you humans are,' said Nanny Piggins. 'Nevertheless,' she added bracingly, 'I suppose we have to go along with it to keep your father happy.'
'And the government from coming to get us,' added Derrick.
'That too,' agreed Nanny Piggins. 'The less we upset the government, the better.' She knew this from personal experience but that is another story that will take up at least another whole chapter on its own, so we will not get sidetracked by it now. 'Let's go to the shops. I'm sure I can easily put together some grey clothes and a Scottish dress and still have money left over for chocolate.'
'You are?' Samantha was relieved to hear this.
'Oh yes, they might not have forced me to go to school. But they did teach me a thing or two at the circus.'
* * *
At the shop Nanny Piggins' eye was immediately drawn to a display of huge bars of milk chocolate. The bars were exactly like regular bars of chocolate except that they were enormous. This was an extremely attractive characteristic as far as Nanny Piggins was concerned. She and the children stood and looked at them for some time, occasionally picking them up to gauge just how heavy they were. Nanny Piggins saw that such large portions of chocolate had great potential. Like the amusement-park tickets, she felt these would make excellent investments. After all, she was supposed to be making lasagna for dinner. If the children had half a kilo of chocolate each beforehand, there was a good chance they would not want any dinner at all. Which would mean she could watch television instead of cooking. 'I think we should buy these,' she told the children.
'But what about our uniforms?' Derrick said. He too was beginning to have visions of angry teachers the next day. 'The chocolate bars cost $12 each.'
'But they are on sale, reduced from $15. It would be a false economy not to buy them,' Nanny Piggins argued.
'But then you would only have $31 to buy three uniforms,' said Samantha, as she quickly did sums in her head.
'And equipment,' Michael reminded her.
'Pish,' said Nanny Piggins. 'I'm the nanny. I make the decisions.' She was pulling rank because she could smell the chocolate through the wrapping. 'That's more than enough to make grey clothes and an ugly dress.' And so she lifted four of the great big bars into her trolley. 'Now, let's get the equipment.'
After a geometry set, three biros and a twelve-pack of exercise books had been thrown into the trolley, there was only $19 left of their budget.
'What are we going to do now?' wailed Samantha. 'We won't have anything to wear to school on Monday. It's just like in my nightmare. I'll have to wear my pyjamas to class.' Poor Samantha actually started crying.
'Just let me think,' Nanny Piggins muttered as she thoughtfully rubbed her snout. The children fell silent, genuinely hoping that her nose would hold a magical solution to their dilemma.
Seconds and then minutes stretched by, and Nanny Piggins still rubbed her snout. Just when Samantha was about to give up hope and curl up in a ball on the floor, Nanny Piggins suddenly shouted, 'I've got it!'
'What?' asked Michael.
'Fetch me some grey dye and the ugliest dress in the store,' ordered Nanny Piggins. The children had no idea what she had in mind, but they dutifully leapt into action. Derrick went to fetch the dye, while Michael and Samantha scurried offto look at women's clothes.
Later that night, after their three-course meal of chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate, Nanny Piggins set to work making the uniforms. She took Michael and Derrick's best trousers and shirts and set them to soak in a tub of ugly grey liquid. The tan trousers and blue shirts quickly absorbed the dye.
Samantha's uniform was more tricky to mimic. They had not found an ugly green dress, but they had found an ugly pink one. The type of dress that cleaning ladies wear, which has a zipper up the front. She and the children then spent the rest of the evening converting it into a school uniform by colouring it in with wax crayons.
The tartan of Samantha's uniform was a complicated pattern of wide green and blue stripes highlighted with thin lines of white and yellow. Fortunately Derrick, Samantha and Michael were all very gifted at colouring between the lines, and they made slow but steady progress. When they stopped for a chocolate break at eleven o'clock, three hours after good children usually go to bed, it was almost done. It looked so good, even Samantha stopped worrying. Although that may have had something to do with the fact that she was half-mad from eating so much chocolate.
'Well, children. I think we have had an excellent day. It is a shame your father does not give me $500 to buy uniforms more often,' declared Nanny Piggins. The children only nodded their agreement, as their mouths were too stuffed full of chocolate to speak.
The next morning the children went to school. On close inspection, their uniforms did look slightly different. But the teachers did not notice. The homemade uniforms were ugly and, since they were just as ugly as all the other children's uniforms, there was nothing to make them stand out. This meant that Derrick, Samantha and Michael passed through their morning lessons without comment. Apart from Barry Nichols, who said to Derrick, 'Nice geometry set.'
But sadly, at little lunch, things went terribly wrong. It was an extremely hot day. And, as it clearly says on the side of every box of wax crayons, 'crayons should be stored out of the sun'. And Samantha did not consider the full implications of the manufacturer's warning before agreeing to prove to Michelle Bampton that she was the world's greatest unco at handball. Five minutes into their gruelling match Samantha felt something trickle down her leg. At first she assumed it was sweat. But when Michelle stopped playing mid-point to stare at her, Samantha looked down and realised her uniform was melting.
'Why is your dress turning pink?' Michelle asked stupidly. For pink bits were indeed beginning to reappear where the molten crayon had rubbed away. This was bad. Samantha knew she had to do something. But what? Her mind raced as she hastily tried to think of an exit strategy. She had barely asked herself the question, 'What would Nanny Piggins do?' when the unnaturally deep voice of their deputy headmistress, Miss Bellows, boomed out behind her.
'What has happened to your uniform?'
Samantha felt like she was stuck in quicksand in a Tarzan movie. She was trapped and there was nothing she could do except hope that someone would come along to save her.
Meanwhile, the boys, oblivious to their sister's dilemma, had chosen to relieve the heat the way all thoughtless little boys do, by engaging in a water fight. To be fair, it was not their idea. They only decided to take part after Derrick had been hit in the head by a lunchbox full of water. Within sixty seconds, they were both soaked to the skin.
Obviously being wet is against school rules. But having dye run out of your school uniform and onto the school carpet is even more against the school rules, even if there is no actual rule stating that.
So Samantha was soon joined by Michael and Derrick, standing on a thick spread of newspaper outside Headmaster Pimplestock's office. And there they forlornly waited for Nanny Piggins to arrive.
Half an hour later Nanny Piggins strode in through the front door. Unlike the children, she looked fabulous. She was wearing a peppermint-green suit, which perfectly suited her complexion. And her hair was set into a series of elegant swirls miraculously balanced on top of her head. It looked as if it had taken three hours to arrange by a Hollywood hair and make-up artist. Th e children were used to seeing Nanny Piggins with chocolate smeared across her face, so they found it daunting to see her so immaculately groomed.
Nanny Piggins paused in front of Derrick, Samantha and Michael and looked them up and down, clicking her tongue with disgust. Even though the whole thing had been her idea, she did look genuinely angry with them. The children hoped she was pretending. But, because she was so good at pretending, they could not be entirely sure.
Nanny Piggins marched into the headmaster's office. But before Headmaster Pimplestock could draw breath to voice his litany of complaints, she both shocked and pleased the children by unexpectedly yelling at him, 'What on earth have you done to my children?'
'Done? Wh–Why . . . I . . . that is to say the school . . .' spluttered Headmaster Pimplestock.
Nanny Piggins did not allow him to continue. 'When they left home this morning, they were dressed in brand new store-bought uniforms. Someone has obviously robbed them of their new clothes en route to school. Perhaps within the grounds of this very institution.'
'Madam, I assure you . . .' Headmaster Pimplestock began to protest. But Nanny Piggins was not going to let him continue.
'I am shocked that you allow this disgraceful criminal activity to go on in a school. Mr Green pays good money to have his children educated here, based on the assumption that they will be protected from crime. He will be most angry when I tell him about this. He will probably demand a refund of the fees,' Nanny Piggins boldly declared. Now she really had Headmaster Pimplestock worried.
'My good lady, there's no need . . .' he began.
But Nanny Piggins interrupted again. 'No need?! No need to ensure that Mr Green's money is not wasted?'
'No, I mean no need to get upset. If the children's uniforms have been stolen by somebody, I'm sure not associated with this school, they can easily be replaced. We have a large supply of excellent quality second hand uni–'
'Second-hand! Mr Green will not have his children wearing the second-hand hand-me-downs of strangers,' declared Nanny Piggins.
'Of course. What I meant was that I am sure we, the school, can reimburse you for the cost of new uniforms,' grovelled Headmaster Pimplestock.
'That's more like it.'
'Why don't you take the children home to bathe? Then, if they are fitted for their new uniforms tomorrow, we shall look forward to seeing them again first thing on Wednesday morning . . . if that would be convenient for you?' Headmaster Pimplestock added, looking suitably brow-beaten.
'All right,' agreed Nanny Piggins.
Headmaster Pimplestock took the petty cash tin out of his desk. 'Let's see, $500 ought to cover it.'
The children could not believe it. Just when everything had gone absolutely horribly wrong, when they were on the verge of being thrown out of school, disowned by their father and probably chucked into a home for delinquent children, a miracle had occurred. They could not believe their eyes as they watched Headmaster Pimplestock count out another five crisp, new, $100 notes. Everything was going to be all right after all.
'Would you like it in an envelope?' Headmaster Pimplestock asked.
'Ah yes, to hide the money? Of course. No, on second thought, it's all right, I have my own,' said Nanny Piggins, taking out her empty envelope from the previous day.
Five minutes later, the children and Nanny Piggins were walking out through the school gates. The children were still shell-shocked by their good fortune.
'I can't believe it. We've got the rest of today and all of tomorrow off school,' exclaimed Derrick. He was delighted.
'And we've got $500 to spend,' said Nanny Piggins as she peered into the bulging envelope.
'But Nanny Piggins, surely you should spend this $500 on actually buying uniforms,' said Samantha.
'Pish,' said Nanny Piggins. 'You don't need uniforms until Wednesday. I'm sure we can find something better to invest the money on in the meantime.'