The Nanny Piggins Guide to Conquering Christmas (4 page)

Christmas is a wonderful time of year. But sometimes your friends and family can be less than wonderful (perhaps due to a shortage of chocolate in their diet) and they will get you unfortunate presents such as underwear that doesn’t fit, books you’ve already read, handkerchiefs that look like they’ve already been used or cash from a now defunct country. In these instances, do not despair. You can still gain some pleasure from your presents by playing
Lava Floor
.

Lava Floor
is an excellent game where you pretend that the entire floor of your house is made of incredibly hot molten rock, bubbling out of the earth’s crust. And if you accidentally touch it with the smallest part of your pinkie toe your whole leg will go up in flames and you will die instantly.

However, anything that is on the floor is a safe island that you can stand on, protected from the lava, which is where your awful presents come in. Scatter your unwanted gifts liberally about the floor. Now anyone who is standing on a gift is safe. Anyone who touches the carpet is dead. And to make it really fun, you can push people off the gifts to a painful fiery demise. To start, simply shout ‘Go!’, then run around screaming while trying to push people into the lava and avoiding being shoved into the lethal magma yourself.

The game isn’t just a fun way to while away the afternoon with friends. It is also a cathartic way to get some use out of your more ill-considered presents.

(NB. This game does not go down well in the Roman city of Vesuvius. If you are holidaying there, stick to Scrabble.)

When I was a little piglet, my wicked sister Wendy told me that the mince in mince pies was made of squashed flies. I will admit this did deter me at first, but upon trying my first mince pie, I decided that I was prepared to eat dead insects so I could enjoy this wonderful seasonal treat. But when I discovered that my sister had been lying and that the mince was actually made from something much more horrifying – fruit – I was astounded! How could something that tasted so good contain something so healthy? I can only assume that the liberal amounts of butter in the pastry, and sugar in the mince, somehow counteract the healthy benefits of the filling. Here is my recipe . . .

1 tablespoon icing sugar

225 grams self-raising flour

a pinch of salt

110 grams butter

a little cold water

1 jar of fruit mince

1.   Use your hands to rub the butter, self-raising flour, salt and icing sugar together until you get a mixture that is like breadcrumbs.

2.   Add a little water to bind the mixture into a dough, then knead until smooth.

3.   Roll out the dough on a floured surface.

4.   Use a round cookie cutter to cut out circles, then press these circles into a mince pie (or cupcake) tray.

5.   Fill the pastry casings with fruit mince (not dead flies).

6.   Then use a star-shaped cookie cutter to cut out the pastry lids. You can use a round cutter if you like. But I like to use stars so you can see the mince poking through. Plus you get a better pastry-to-fruit mince ratio.

7.   Bake in the oven at 200°C for about 25 minutes, or until the pastry goes a light golden brown.

8.   Remove from the oven and put on a cooling rack.
And remember:

Normally I am a big believer in gobbling baked goods the second they come out of the oven, but you must
never
do this with mince pies. The fruit mince is basically boiling sticky sugar syrup, bubbling away at 200°C. So if you put it straight in your mouth, not only will it burn you, it will stick to your tongue as you run around the kitchen squealing ‘Ow OOOW! Mmm yum. Ow OWIE!!!’

9.   Once cooled, eat and enjoy.
(NB. One of the benefits of the star-shaped lids is that they are easy to pry off, so you can tuck a spoonful of cream or ice-cream underneath for added deliciousness.)

These mince pies are extremely tasty, so feel free to tell your friends and family that they are full of dead flies. You’ll get to keep more for yourself that way.

It all began innocently enough. Samson Wallace approached Nanny Piggins after school and asked if he could come over for a play date.

‘Why? What’s going on? What’s Nanny Anne up to?’ asked Nanny Piggins suspiciously.

‘Perhaps Samson just wants to come over to play,’ suggested Boris.

‘Of course Samson wants to come over to play,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘We’re a thousand times, if not a billion times, more fun to spend time with than their own nanny, Nanny Anne, which is precisely why I know she would never condone him coming over here and asking for a play date unless she had an ulterior motive.’ Nanny Piggins glared across the playground at Nanny Anne.

Nanny Anne smiled sweetly back.

‘Did you see that?’ asked Nanny Piggins. ‘She smiled at me. She’s clearly up to something.’

‘She always smiles at everyone,’ said Derrick.

‘I bet she even smiles at the dentist as he pulls her wisdom teeth out,’ said Michael.

‘Oh no,’ said Samson. ‘Nanny Anne doesn’t have wisdom teeth. She says they are unseemly so she won’t tolerate them growing in her mouth.’

‘Hmm,’ said Nanny Piggins as she considered the situation. ‘While my natural instinct is to say “yes” to this play date, to shelter this poor child from the overzealous hygiene of his own nanny for one short afternoon –’

‘Yes!’ exclaimed Samson excitedly.

‘I feel that it is also my civic duty to get to the bottom of whatever dastardly plan Nanny Anne is clearly up to,’ said Nanny Piggins.

‘You could try asking her?’ suggested Derrick.

‘Hmm, interesting idea,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘So you’re suggesting that I ask her what she is up to, then when she tells me a great big lie I count the number of times I see her accelerated pulse beat in her jugular vein to see if it spells out a message in morse code?’

‘No, I was just thinking you could ask her and see if she tells the truth,’ said Derrick.

‘That plan is so ridiculously crazy,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘it just might work.’

Nanny Piggins marched across the playground, the children following close behind, and confronted Nanny Anne. ‘What are you up to, you dreadful woman?’

‘You could try not being rude,’ suggested Samantha. ‘She might be more likely to tell you.’

‘Pish,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘You have to take a firm hand with all amoral degenerates.’ She confronted Nanny Anne once more. ‘Why are you trying to palm this child off on me for the afternoon? What is it that you intend to do that can only be done in secret?’

‘I have no idea what you are talking about,’ said Nanny Anne with a saccharine smile. ‘Since Margaret is away on an Outward Bound expedition, teaching homeless youths how to eat with table manners while surviving in the wilderness, I simply thought that Samson might enjoy spending the afternoon at your house. It is so important to expose children to the reality of how other people live, I thought it would do him good.’

‘You’re lying!’ accused Nanny Piggins.

‘Nanny Piggins,’ chided Michael, ‘you know Isabella Dunkhurst prefers it if you accuse people of obfuscating the truth, as it is much easier for her to defend you against the subsequent slander charges.’