The Childrens' Nanny

Back in the good ol' days, only children born the very wealthiest and most privileged families would have a Nanny. Someone to look after them, because their Mummy or Daddy either couldn't or wouldn't.

Now, you lucky children, every single one of has you a nanny. The same nanny. Nanny State.

Nanny State, dears, will look after all of you, all the time. Even when you're a grown-up, Nanny will look after you, but the ones Nanny loves best are you, you little scamps.

And Nanny State knows best. Always.

Nanny says you must be protected at all times, from the naughty grown-ups. Especially those who might not be nice, and who might want to do horrid things. And that could be anybody, boys and girls

So, my dears, you're going to have to stop going to play rugby on Saturdays. Yes, you might well love rugby. But to get there, you have to have a lift from Mr. Smith, who lives down the road.

And Mr Smith, for all Nanny knows, might well be the sort of man who - instead of driving you the sports field, like he does every week - will suddenly decide to stop his Volvo in a lay-by and show you his winky.

And you, sweetheart, can't have any more tennis lessons. Nanny's sorry, but you really can't. That lovely Mr Brown has been teaching little girls tennis for years and years, but Nanny thinks that, given half a chance, Mr Brown might like to take some pictures of you when you're getting changed. So best you don't see him any more.

Do you remember how you used to like it when grown-ups came to your school assemblies and told you interesting things? So much better than the boring old teachers, wasn't it? People that wrote books, people that painted pictures, people that had done interesting things, would come and talk to you about it.

Nanny's got to stop that too. Sorry. But there were just too many of them to investigate, and some of them might really have wanted to come to yoit school not to talk about the animals they photographed in Kenya, but to put their horrid hands inside your clothes.


So, just in case, Nanny's going to make it a lot harder for them to get anywhere near you. So hard, that a lot of them won't bother, and you won't see them anymore. Isn't that good?

And this week, kiddies, Nanny's got some more bad news for you.

Remember how you used to like going to the farm? To see the sheep and the pigs and the cows and the chickens and the funny old donkey? Remember how you always had to wash your hands afterwards, in case any yucky germs got on them?

Well, dears, Nanny thinks that some Mummies and Daddies might not remember to remind you. Then you might get a sorely tummy.

So, just in case, Nanny thinks it best if you don't go to see the animals any more. Yes, the sheep will be sad too. But we don't want any more sore tummies, do we?

What's that? What can you do? Well .. well ... How about some more things not to do?

You'd better not play on your PlayStation, because you might get naughty ideas about guns.

Best if you don't play with those nasty conkers this autumn either. Someone might hurt their knuckles, or get something in their eye, so Nanny thinks no-one should have conkers.

You'd better not watch television, because you might get 'obese'. Who knows what 'obese' means? That's right. It means 'fat'. Fat like a little boy or girl who never plays any sport, and never goes for a nice walk around the fields, and never really goes out at all. We don't want that, do we?

What? You want to know what you can do? Oh, Nanny doesn't know. Best leave Nanny alone now dear: she's thinking. Thinking of some more rules to keep you safe, dear.

Run along.


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