wouldnât be permanently recorded for all posterity for my children and my childrenâs children to laugh at for generations to come!â
âOh dear,â said Nanny Piggins. âI entirely forgot.â
âBut you said the crème brûlée would make you come up with an idea in your sleep!â yelled Samantha, starting to get hysterical.
âIt did,â said Nanny Piggins. âIt gave me the idea to serve waffles with chocolate ice-cream as well as chocolate sauce with strawberries dipped in chocolate, and an extra silver spittoon to put on the table that you can spit the strawberries into once the chocolate has been sucked off.â
The children looked at the spittoon.
âThat is a brilliant idea,â said Derrick.
âBut what about my hair?â sobbed Samantha.
âEat some waffles,â suggested Nanny Piggins. âIt wonât seem nearly so bad after youâve eaten a few million calories. And donât worry, I said I would see to it and I will. It must be hours until you have your photo taken.â
âTwo hours and 18 minutes,â sniffed Samantha.
âYou see, thatâs buckets of time for me to come up with a brilliant plan and save the day,â said Nanny Piggins. âHave a waffle. They are particularly good if you put on so much chocolate sauce that you canât see the waffle anymore.â
And so when they left for school, Samantha was in a chocolate-addled state.
âWhat are you going to do?â Derrick asked his nanny as they walked to the bus stop.
âI could always stop the photographer from getting to the school,â mused Nanny Piggins. âIâm sure I still have my kidnapping sack somewhere.â
âYou canât kidnap him!â said Michael. âThe Police Sergeant has let you off with a warning for kidnapping five times in the last six months. If you do it again heâll get so cross.â
âHmm, I suppose,â agreed Nanny Piggins reluctantly. âBut donât worry, Iâm sure I will think of something.â
And so the children rode to school. Samantha spent the whole journey with a paper bag over her head, partly so that no-one would look at her haircut and partly to stop herself from hyperventilating.
The photograph was to be taken immediately before recess. The morning dragged for poor Samantha. She seriously considered taking matters into her own hands by leaping out the window and running away, but her classroom was on the second floor and much as she did not want to get her photograph taken, she wanted to break her legs even less.
When the teacher instructed all the students to make their way to the school oval, Samanthaâs feet felt like they were made of lead. If only they were, then she could get lead poisoning, which would be an excellent excuse to call an ambulance and be whisked to hospital.
As the students were all being arranged in rows on raised bleachers, Samantha had a brief opportunity to speak to Derrick.
âWhereâs Nanny Piggins?â Samantha asked.
âI havenât seen her,â said Derrick.
âYou donât think sheâs forgotten, do you?â asked Samantha.
âNo, of course not,â said Derrick. âAlthough The Young and the Irritable is on right now, and watching that can give her sympathetic short-term memory loss, like the time Bridge was in a car accident and got amnesia from banging his head on the cup holder, and Nanny Piggins forgot to make fudgsicles for dinner.â
âIâm doomed,â said Samantha. She would have wept but she did not want to make herself look even worse.
The children were arranged according to height, prettiness and who could be trusted to sit properly in the front row. Being of medium height and looks, Samantha was tucked in the middle but her head was still visible. And every time Samantha tried to stand behind the girl next to her, one of the teachers would angrily