
Action Annie
The Complete Omnibus
By
William Forde
Cover Illustration by Dave Bradbury
Copyright February 2012 by William Forde
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this ebook. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Author’s introduction
“I believe that all things that bring pleasure and happiness into the life of a child, possesses its own spiritual dimension in the world of that child, especially in the magical mind of an imaginative child like Annie."
William Forde: February 2012.
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Action Annie
The Complete Omnibus
A collection of 12 Stories
Story One: 'Annie's Christmas Surprise'
Story Two: 'Annie's Pancake'
Story Three 'Annie's Snowman'
Story Four 'Annie's Easter Bunny'
Story Five 'Annie's Rainbow
Story Six 'Annie's Birthday Surprise'
Story Seven 'Annie's Music Box'
Story Eight 'Annie's Seaside Surprise'
Story Nine 'Annie and the Bullfrog'
Story Ten 'Annie and the Magician'
Story Eleven 'Annie's Kite'
Story Twelve 'Annie's Bonfire
Author's Foreword
In dealing with the theme of this first story in the ‘Action Annie’ series of stories from the book of the same name, I wanted to address that perennial question that has perplexed the minds of millions of children ever since ‘Father Christmas’ became a prime feature of their Christmas Day celebrations. “If there is a Father Christmas, and he is a Christmas visitor to the home of every boy and girl across the world to give them a present; then why does he always give the most expensive presents to those children whose parents are the richest and the cheapest presents to those children whose parents are the poorest?”
In 1991, I penned ‘Annie’s Christmas Surprise’. At the time, I lived in Mirfield, West Yorkshire and hundreds of children and their parents were upset because two Mirfield Primary Schools were being closed and amalgamated with a third school in Mirfield. To provide a bit of cheer to those young children who were anxious about having to move to another school after the Christmas vacation; along with the assistance of a Bradford businessman, I arranged to provide all 400 children involved with their own exclusive Christmas gift; their very own book that was dedicated to their closed schools.
The story was read to the assembly of the three combined schools by the lately deceased author and dear friend of mine, Stan Barstow. Each child was pleased with the free story book gift that they were presented with by ‘Father Christmas’, especially a heartbroken 7-year-old Mirfield girl whose pink bicycle that her parents had bought her for Christmas had been stolen. During the special storytelling assembly that morning, Father Christmas was enabled to present the child with a brand new pink bicycle, which I’d persuaded a local cycle shop to donate.
Early in the New Year of 1992, I received a phone call from the late Dame Catherine Cookson and her husband Tom, with whom I was to become very friendly until their deaths. Dame Catherine and Tom had heard about the recently published Christmas story book that I’d given the children of the Mirfield schools and asked me to send her taped copies of any other ‘Annie’ stories that I planned to publish, as she had a proposition in mind. In 1996, ‘Action Annie’, a book of twelve seasonal stories, and which had been recorded by Brigid Forsythe (Thelma of TV ‘The Likely Lads’ fame), was published for the 5-9 year old reader, thanks to the project being financed by Dame Catherine Cookson and her husband as an anniversary gift. A special storytelling visit was made to Mirfield Library, where my friend, the late Sir Norman Wisdom, read the book to hundreds of Mirfield children. The book was later praised to the press by former Chief Inspector of Schools for OFSTED, Chris Woodhead, as ‘high quality literature.’
‘Who is Annie?’

Annie is an imaginative and very active seven-year-old whose mind and body is always on the move. She never seems to stop. Even as she sleeps, she is dreaming about the things she plans to do tomorrow. Annie is always thinking up new ideas and inventing things. She is such a busy child that her parents never know whether she's coming or going.
Annie is very determined. Once she gets an idea inside her head, she becomes determined to try it out. If her ideas don't work out the first time Annie tries them out, she won't give up. Instead, she will try and try again. Once Annie has decided to do something, nobody and nothing will stop her.
Annie's head is crammed with ideas and her body is filled with feelings, feelings which she finds impossible to hide from the outside world. Anyone can tell whether Annie is feeling happy or sad because she just can’t hide her feelings. Anyone can tell if Annie is in a good mood or a bad mood; by simply looking at her, and by listening to what she says and how she says it.
Whenever Annie is happy, her smiley face tells you so. And whenever she is sad, the smile on her face will quickly disappear and be replaced by a squashed-tomato look.
But, whenever Annie is ‘very, very, very happy', her eyes sparkle and grow bigger; the smile on her face widens, her two arms begin to rotate like the propellers of an aircraft, her two feet jump her body up into the air and her mouth gleefully yells out, "Yippee! Yippee! Yippee! Yippee for Annie!"
Whenever Annie gets angry, she begins to lose her temper. Her face turns red, the sound of her voice gets louder and she stamps one of her feet on the floor three times and says, "Bother! Bother! Bother!" But, whenever Annie gets 'very, very, angry' her face begins to scowl; her lips twist up and she stamps her foot on the floor three times saying, "Bother! Bother! Bother!" Then, both of her arms begin to rotate furiously as she jumps up into the air, and upon landing with both feet, she yells out loudly, "And Double Bother!"
Annie sometimes gets angry but she knows how to get the anger out of her. When Annie wants to get the anger out of her body, she writes it out, she talks it out and she acts it out. If she is angry with someone, she may write him or her a nasty letter and then tear it up without posting it. When she does this, she finds that expressing her feelings makes her feel a bit better, even when they are bad feelings. Sometimes, Annie will become annoyed with another person. Whenever that happens, Annie goes into a corner where she won’t be heard and calls the person a ‘Jolly old stinker!’ If she is very angry, she will go to her bedroom and pretend that the other person is her pillow. Then she will have a pillow fight. Or she may lie on her back on the bed and peddle her legs up in the air furiously until all the anger has left her body.
There is a little bit of Annie in every boy and girl. That's what makes her likeable. Read about Annie’s adventures and find out what bits of Annie are like you.
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"Annie's Christmas Surprise"

Annie was a seven-year-old girl and all she wanted, more than anything else in the world, was to have her very own bicycle!
She often dreamt about her bicycle. It would be pink with white mudguards. On the back, it would have a soft, white, leather bag and on the front would be a basket and her 'ting-a-ling 'bell. The seat would be made of black leather and every spoke and wheel rim would be shiny silver and gleam in the sunlight.
Each night when Annie went to bed, she would pray for a bicycle and when she went to sleep, she would dream about it. Whenever her mum and dad asked her what she would like for her birthday, she always told them, "I want my very own new, pink bicycle please."
But, Annie's parents were very poor and they just could not afford to buy her a brand-new bicycle for her birthday. Annie understood. She knew that her parents loved her. She also knew that had they been able to afford a bicycle, they would gladly have bought her one.
Her fifth birthday came and went without Annie getting her bicycle, but she never once sulked. Instead, she smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and said, "Never mind, perhaps I'll get my bicycle at Christmas. Father Christmas isn't poor and he has hundreds of bicycles to give away."
Christmas came and went, but Annie did not get her bicycle, even though she had put it at the very top of her list which she posted to Father Christmas. Her sixth birthday came and the next Christmas; but still no bicycle!
Meanwhile, almost all of Annie's friends had been bought bicycles for their birthday or had been given bicycles by Father Christmas. Samantha Jones had been given a bicycle by Father Christmas and she hadn't even asked for one! Susie Wilcox, whose parents were very rich, got a new bicycle for her birthday last year and was given another one by Father Christmas before the first one had even got rusty.
The more Annie thought about it, the more she felt it just wasn't fair. "Why are things the wrong way round?" she asked her parents one evening.
"What do you mean?" replied Annie's mum, as she gave Annie's dad one of those secret looks that children aren't supposed to see.
"The way I see it," said Annie, "this Father Christmas is a very strange person indeed! He gives all the best presents to the richest children and all the little presents to the poorest. Surely that's the wrong way round?" she asked. Even her parents, who were very wise grown-ups, couldn't disagree with her. "Why does Father Christmas always miss me out when he is handing out the new bicycles? What have I done wrong? I'm not a bad girl. Sylvia Slater does all kinds of naughty things and he left her a superb bicycle last Christmas, a pair of roller skates, and a new coat!"

Annie’s parents sat silently looking at each other. Annie began to feel angry and unloved. She stamped her feet, got up from the table and went out into the garden. "It's all wrong! It's just not fair! It isn't!" she said to herself.”That Father Christmas is a jolly old stinker!”
When Annie had thought things out and calmed down a little, she went back into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom and began rummaging about in her desk. Her parents began to wonder what she was doing. Five minutes later, Annie came down the stairs with a note pad, a pencil and envelope.
"Whatever are you doing child?" asked her mum.
"I'm going to write Father Christmas a letter," Annie replied.
Annie's dad said, "But it is only March! You don't write to Father Christmas in March, Annie; that's nine months before Christmas!"
Annie looked at both her parents and said, "You do if it's a nasty letter!"
Her parents looked at each other in surprise. They had never seen their daughter so angry before, and quite so determined to do something about it. They tried to persuade her that to write a letter to Father Christmas now was far too soon, and to write a nasty letter to him was very unwise indeed.
"People write nice, polite letters to Father Christmas, Annie," her dad said. "Nobody ever writes nasty letters to him!"
"Well, I'm going to!" she said, "and if he doesn't like it, he can jolly well lump it! And besides, he will have a full nine months to think about what I'm going to tell him."
When her parents realised that they were not going to be able to stop her writing the nasty letter, they both left her to get on with it.
Annie was still very cross as she started to write and she broke the point of her pencil twice before she had even written two lines. In her letter she wrote:
Now look here Father Christmas! Just what do you think you are doing giving the best presents to the richest children and all the smallest presents to the poorest? I don't think that is fair! Do you? When are you going to give me my pink bicycle? If you wait much longer, I'll be too big to ride it safely.
Annie.
PS. My mum and dad don't think it is fair either!

Annie read the letter once, folded it neatly and placed it inside the envelope to post to Father Christmas. She had to ask her parents to write the address on the envelope, as she didn't know it. She also got her dad to promise that he would put a first-class stamp on it, as she wanted it to reach Father Christmas as soon as possible.
All the next week, Annie rushed downstairs every morning to see if she had received a reply in the post, but she hadn't. The next week came and went and the next, but still no letter arrived. "It wouldn't surprise me," she said to her mum, "if that jolly old stinker had forgotten."
"Well, I did tell you it was too soon to be writing a letter to Father Christmas; especially a nasty one," said her dad.
Her mum said, "I know what I would have done if somebody had sent me a nasty letter. I would have torn it up and thrown it straight in the Lapland bin!"
April, May, June and July passed and still no letter of reply came. By August, the weather was fine, and because Annie was having so much fun every day playing out, she quite forgot about the nasty letter she had sent to Father Christmas way back in March.
September, October and November came and went, and only when it began to snow in December, did Annie remember it would soon be Christmas.
The week before Christmas arrived. Everyone in Annie's house and school were busily preparing for the big day. Annie had made her mind up not to write out a Christmas list. She had already written her letter to Father Christmas in March, so he knew what she wanted!
Annie decided that if Father Christmas didn't leave her a bicycle, then she wouldn't let it bother her. After all, she could run and walk around. She could skip and jump and she had a mum and dad who loved her very dearly. "Not everybody is as lucky as that," she thought, "and these things, I would never swap; not even for twenty new bicycles!"
When Annie woke up excited on Christmas Day, she ran downstairs to open her presents. There were three small parcels beneath the Christmas tree for her. In them, was a pair of pink slippers, a blue nightdress and a white, fluffy, bunny rabbit. Annie was pleased with her presents.
After breakfast, mum, dad and Annie set off to go to church and as they open the back door, they found a giant-sized cardboard box blocking the exit. Tied around it was a yellow ribbon, and attached to the ribbon was a letter with Annie's name on it.
Annie wanted to open the box and read the letter there and then, but her parents told her that if they didn't hurry to church immediately they would miss the Christmas Service. "You can open it when we get back," her mum said.
Annie found it very difficult to concentrate on the Church Service. All she could think about was the big cardboard box and what might be inside it. She couldn't wait to get home and open it.
The Service ended and Annie hurried her parents back home. The box had to be open outside the house as it was too big to get through the back door. As Annie untied the ribbon and quickly unwrapped the Christmas paper on top of the box, she said to her parents, "I wonder what's inside?" whilst she was quietly saying to herself, "Oh, please let it be a............."
The lid came open and inside the box was brand new, pink bicycle, with a white leather bag on the back and a basket on the front, a black leather seat, white mudguards on the front and a 'ting-a-ling’ bell.

"Yippee!" yelled Annie. "What a super dooper Christmas surprise. Oh thank you very much Father Christmas, thank you very, very much!" She sat on the new, black leather seat and said, "It's perfect, Mum, Dad; it's simply perfect. Just the right size, just the right colour; just what I have always wanted!
Two minutes later, Annie was riding her bicycle round and around the garden. 'Ting-a-ling...ting-a-ling' went the tiny bell. She was still riding the bicycle when two hours later, her dad said, "Annie, don't you think you ought to read the letter Father Christmas sent you?"
In the excitement of the moment, Annie had forgotten the letter from Father Christmas. She opened the envelope and read:
Dear Annie,
Because you posted your letter in March, I only got around to reading it on Christmas Eve. You see, Annie, I receive millions of letters every year from children all over the world. Nobody usually writes to me before December, and nobody ever writes to me in March! So, I don't pick them up from the Lapland post office until December. As yours was the very first letter to arrive, it naturally ‘found its way to the bottom of the pile’ and it was the very last letter that I read.
My answer to your question may also surprise you. I do not give the best presents to the richest children. I always give my very best presents to the poorest children. The very best present that I can give is 'The Power of Imagination'. This is the most special of all my gifts and it is very powerful indeed. Any child who has this power is able to sit inside a cardboard box and pretend that they are sitting inside a racing car, or perhaps sailing a boat, driving a tank or even being a presenter on a television. These children are very active children who never get bored.
I gave you ‘The Power of Imagination' three years ago and I’m pleased to find that you have been using this gift ever since. This year, however, I decided to give you a big, empty, cardboard box. It was too big to get down your chimney, so I left it outside your back door with some Christmas paper around it to keep it dry.
This is my 'imagination box' and anyone who sits inside it, closes their eyes, puts on a smiley face and begins to imagine, will be transported to the place of their dreams.
Lots of love.
Father Christmas.
PS. I put you an extra present inside your 'imagination box'. It is a brand new, pink bicycle with a soft, white, leather bag on the back, a black leather seat, a basket and a 'ting-a-ling' bell on the front.
The End.
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'Annie's Snowman'
Author’s Foreword
“I believe that all things that bring pleasure and happiness into the life of a child, possesses its own spiritual dimension in the world of that child, especially in the magical mind of an imaginative childlike Annie."
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Annie woke up and ran to her bedroom window. Her face broke into a big smile as she yelled out gleefully, "Hurrah, it’s snowing! Hurrah for Annie!" Outside, everything was covered in a blanket of white.
Annie dressed quickly and ran downstairs. A minute later, she was in her red wellies and out of the door.
"Good old Saturday!" she said. "No school and all day long to play in the snow."
Although this was the first snow of the year, Annie had waited for this day for a long time. You see, she was now seven-years-old and she had never built her own snowman. In previous years, her parents had always helped her to build one. But she had promised herself that ‘this year’ she would build her very own snowman; all by herself.
Annie felt the snow. It was nicely dry, just the right sort of snow for building a snowman. She was determined to build the very best snowman that had ever been built. Her mother made her eat some breakfast and wrap up warm before she started. As Annie quickly ate, she kept her eyes on the kitchen window. The snow kept coming down, like cotton wool from the sky.
"Oh, I do hope it doesn't stop snowing," she said. "I hope it snows all day long."
Annie worked hard all morning, rolling the snow into a big ball along the ground and then patting it hard. By lunchtime, she had built the body and soon after, the head. By teatime, the snowman had a face and granddad's old hat and pipe finished him off nicely.
Annie was tired as she stood back to look at her day’s work. As Annie looked at the snowman she had built all on her own she felt proud. "He's beautiful!" she said to her parents. "In fact, I’d go so far as to say he’s quite the best snowman I've ever seen." Her parents thought so too.
As Annie went to bed that night, she kept looking out of her bedroom window at her snowman. She was pleased with her work and she couldn't wait for Sunday morning to come so that she could play with him after she’d been to church.
After church, Annie rushed home to play with her snowman. They played together all day long and soon became the best of friends. Annie talked to the snowman, and because he was a good listener, she told him all her secrets. Even though he never once answered her, Annie believed he understood. By Sunday afternoon, it stopped snowing and began to get warmer. This had been one of the happiest days of her life.
As Annie settled down for the night, she felt very lucky to have her very own snowman friend all to herself. She jumped out of bed and looked out of the window one last time before going to sleep. She waved good night to her snowman and after yelling, "I love you," she climbed back into bed and fell fast asleep.
Before Annie went off to school the next morning, she told the snowman that she would be home at 4pm and then they would have more fun together. All day long at school, she thought about home time and seeing her snowman friend again and all day long the sun shone brightly too.
As soon as she arrived home, Annie realised that something was wrong. Her jolly, fat snowman had grown thinner, the smile had vanished from his face and he seemed to be stood in a pool of water.
Annie felt sad as she went to bed that night and as she looked out of her bedroom window, the moonlight shone down upon the snowman. It looked as if the snowman's shadow was growing smaller also.
When Annie woke up the next day, she immediately ran to her window to look at her snowman friend. "Oh, no!" she cried, as she ran downstairs and out of the house. The snowman looked a pitiful sight. He had shrunk, his shoulders had sagged and he had lost one of his eyes and half his nose.
Annie tried to pat him right again, but it was no use! Instead of feeling nicely cold, the snowman now felt squashy wet. As Annie looked at her sad friend, granddad’s pipe fell from the snowman's mouth and then his head fell off!
Annie began to cry. Then the snowman's arm dropped to the ground. Her poor friend was falling to pieces and however hard she tried; Annie was unable to put him together again.
She became annoyed with the warm sun that was melting her friend away. Looking up towards the sky, she yelled, "I hate you, you rotten old sun! Why can't you go away and leave us alone? Go on! Buzz off you jolly old stinker! Buzz off!"
Then, Annie had a good idea, but she had to act quickly if she was going to save her snowman before he disappeared completely. The only part of him remaining was his right foot, which Annie carried into the house and put inside the freezer!
"Whatever are you doing?" asked her mum. "Why are you putting snow in my freezer?"
Annie said, "This isn't any old piece of snow. This is my special friend's foot!"
Annie told her mum that the sun had melted her snowman down to his right foot and that she intended to save him in the freezer and build him back up again when the snow returned.
"But, Annie," her mum said, "the freezer won't save what is left of your snowman. All it will do is turn him into ice."
For the next two days, Annie was very sad. She missed her snowman and wanted him back. Her parents tried to tell her that soon it will be spring and it was most unlikely to snow again before next winter.
"You can always build another snowman next year," said dad, trying to cheer her up.
But, Annie was determined she didn't want ‘another’ snowman, and she most certainly wasn't going to wait another year if she could help it. She put on an angry face and stamped her foot hard, saying, “Bother! Bother! Bother! I want my own snowman back and I intend to get him back now!" She then stamped out of the house to think things out.
Her parents knew that when Annie was in one of her angry moods, the best way they could help her was to leave her alone. They also knew she didn't sulk and that when she was angry about something, she would usually do something about it.
Annie looked towards the spot in the garden where her snowman had stood. As she looked, a robin flew into the bird box nearby. The robin had first visited Annie’s garden three years ago and had returned to the very same spot every winter since.
Annie's brain began to think and think as she watched the robin. Eventually, only one thought was going through her mind. "If robins come back to the same place every year, perhaps snowmen do too. And even if they don't, perhaps their spirits do," Annie thought.
Thinking this made Annie feel a bit better, and once she started to believe it, she felt even better still. She decided to mark the precise spot where her snowman had stood before he had melted, thinking that when it snowed again next year, he would know where to come back to.
Just to make sure that her snowman wouldn't have a foot missing, Annie took the snowman's right foot out of the freezer and allowed it to melt away where it had previously rested. Then she began to look around for something to mark the place, as it was a long time until next winter. She decided to put her red wellies on the ground where her snowman had stood until she could find something heavier that wouldn't blow over in the wind.
After lots of searching in the garage and garden shed, Annie found a large, wooden barrel that the wind wouldn’t be able to blow over. As it was too heavy for her to move herself, she asked her dad to put it on the spot for her.
"Silly old dad!" Annie laughed as he placed it ‘upside down’ over Annie's red wellies.
As dad was about to turn the barrel the other way up, Annie’s eyes sparkled and she said, "No, leave it exactly where it is dad. You've given me a brilliant idea!"
Annie and her dad stood back and as they looked at the upside-down barrel over her wellies, they both laughed at what they saw.
"What does that look like to you, dad?" asked Annie.
Dad laughed again and said, "A barrel with a pair of feet!"
Annie gave him one of her clever looks and said, "That's no barrel with feet, dad: that’s half a snowman!”
Annie’s dad scratched his head in a puzzled sort of way, as he didn't know what was going on inside Annie's mind. Whenever Annie got an idea inside her head, she always thought and thought about it until she came up with a suitable answer.
Annie decided on her best plan and then rummaged everywhere to find the things she needed. She worked hard all week as her parents watched on in amazement. Her parents wondered what she was going to do with the pile of things she had found.
There was one round goldfish bowl, a red thimble, two blue buttons, two old hockey sticks, a hammer and six nails, a piece of red cloth, one pair of scissors, a pot of glue, five large bags of cotton wool, a woolly scarf and dad's old hat.
First, Annie placed the goldfish bowl upside down on top of the barrel.
“Whatever are you doing, Annie?” her parents asked.
“I’m giving the body a head” Annie replied in one of her grown-up clever voices.
Then she took the two hockey sticks and six nails and hammered one hockey stick to each side of the barrel to give it arms.
Next, Annie picked up the scissors and cut the red cloth into a half-moon shape. She glued the two blue buttons, the thimble and piece of red cloth onto the goldfish bowl to give it eyes, a nose and a smiley mouth; making up a happy face.
Annie then opened the bags of cotton wool and stuck it all over until it covered everything except the eyes, nose and mouth on the front of the goldfish bowl. Then, she wrapped the scarf around the neck part, before popping dad's hat on top of everything.
"What an imaginative child you are!" exclaimed her father. “What a beautiful snowman!”
As Annie went to bed that night, she looked out of the window and waved good night to her snowman. She knew he could stay where he was until it snowed again next year and that he wouldn't melt away, however hot the sun got. Annie also knew that when it did snow again, the snow would cover her new snowman friend nicely, giving him a seasonal winter coat to his liking over his summer coat of cotton wool.
It pleased Annie to think she had built two snowmen this year all by herself, and to know that when next year's snow fell, she would have two snowmen in her garden instead of one; and they’d both be in the very same spot where she had built the first snowman she’d ever made. She believed that the spirit of her first snowman would return to the very same spot where it had first stood, but nobody except Annie would know it was there beneath the second snowman she had built.
As Annie looked out of her window before going to bed she smilingly said, "Good night, Snowman. I love you." Then as she got into bed, Annie proudly said to herself under the blankets before falling asleep, “Yippee for Annie! Yippee for the snowman! Yippee!”
The End.
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'Annie's Pancake'
Author’s Foreword
When I was young, my mother always allowed me to try to toss the pancakes that she made on Shrove Tuesday. In all my years of ‘pancake tossing’, I never once succeeded in both tossing the pancake and catching the pancake in the pan after it had turned in the air. Have you?

Annie was excited when she came home from school. She went straight to the kitchen and began rummaging in the fridge and cupboard.
"Whatever are you doing, Annie?" asked her mum. “You haven’t even had time to take off your coat and already you’re rummaging in my nice clean kitchen. Why have you taken the flour out of the cupboard and the milk and eggs from the fridge, Annie?"
Annie, who was standing on a chair, said, "I'm going to make a pancake, Mum, and toss it in the frying pan."
Stopping Annie from doing something she had started wasn't an easy thing to do; even for her parents.
"Why today?" asked her mum. "Why do you want to make a pancake today, Annie?"
Annie gave her mum one of her grown-up looks and said, "Because today is Shrove Tuesday; Pancake Day! My teacher, Miss Wigglesworth, told us in class today and if Miss Wigglesworth says so then it must be so because she knows everything there is to know!”
Mum had quite forgotten it was Shrove Tuesday. She didn't have the teacher to remind her, like Annie and her other school classmates did.
"Let's make a pancake together then," said mum. "If we hurry up, it will be ready by the time your dad comes home from work."
Annie really wanted to make the pancake all on her own, but she didn't want to be unkind to mum. So she agreed to let mum help; providing Annie got to toss it.
"Tossing pancakes is a very difficult thing to do, Annie,” her mum gently reminded her daughter. “Even I can't do it properly," her mother said.
Annie began to get annoyed and stamped her right foot on the floor three times, saying as she did so, “Bother! Bother! Bother! I want to toss the pancake! There's no fun in making one unless you get to toss it."
Mum agreed to let her try. Annie got out the weighing scales and weighed out the amount of flour required. Mum broke an egg and put it in a whisking bowl while Annie added the milk and a pinch of salt. All the ingredients were then mixed up and whisked until everything was runny. Mum then picked up a small frying pan and put some cooking oil in it to stop the pancake sticking. The pan was warmed up and when everything was ready, Annie poured some of the ingredients into it. The pan sizzled as Annie poured in the ingredients that she and her mum had mixed up.
Annie became very excited as the pancake batter sizzled and browned in the frying pan. “Oh Mum, look at clever Annie. See what I’ve done. I’m cooking a pancake. Yippee! Yippee for Annie!”
One side of the pancake was cooked until it was nicely brown and ready for tossing.
"Be very careful, Annie," her mum advised. She told her, “If you don't toss it hard enough, Annie, it won't somersault in the air and land on the other side. But if you toss it too hard, you will never catch it in the pan and it will fall onto the floor or break into pieces!”
A knock on the door interrupted them as they were talking and mum said, "It's only the window cleaner, waiting for his money. Just wait a minute, Annie, until I come back."
As mum went to the door, Annie said, "Silly old mum, she's forgotten to put syrup on the pancake." Annie got the treacle tin down, opened it and poured some on top of the pancake. Annie had remembered that she always had treacle on top of her pancakes, but she didn't realise that the syrup should have been put on the pancake after it had been cooked and was on the plate, ready for eating!
Annie's mum came back into the kitchen. "Now, where were we? Ah- yes! You were just about ready to toss the pancake, weren't you, Annie?" her mum asked. Annie was now getting very impatient to toss the pancake and the whole of her body started to wobble with anticipated excitement.
Annie grasped the handle of the frying pan, ready to toss the pancake into the air. She counted, ‘One– two– three’ and.............................. nothing happened! The pancake stayed perfectly still and remained unmoved in the pan.
"You'll have to do it a bit harder than that," said mum. “The pancake might be a bit stuck.”
Annie held the handle tighter, took a deep breath and counted, ‘One– two– three’; and this time….................................. the pancake wobbled in the pan, but it still didn't jump into the air.
"Jolly old stinker!" Annie said to the pancake in one of her cross voices. “Jump, you jolly old stinker! Why won’t you jump for Annie?”
Mum laughed and said, "Well, Annie, I did tell you it was difficult to toss a pancake. Even you won’t jump unless you want to!"
By now, Annie was becoming very annoyed with the pancake that wouldn't jump. She took a deep, angry breath and counted, ‘One-two-three’ again before tossing the pancake into the air with all her might.
Up, up and up went the pancake. Annie waited for it to do a somersault and come down again and land back inside her frying pan, but it didn't. Annie and her mum both looked up, but they couldn't see the pancake anywhere. It had truly disappeared!
They looked everywhere. It wasn't on the ceiling and it wasn't on the floor. It wasn't on the table or any of the chairs. Both Annie and her mum looked everywhere inside the house for the pancake, but they just couldn’t find it. It was nowhere to be seen. The pancake had vanished!
When dad came home, all three of them searched, but they couldn't find the pancake.
“Are you sure that you made a pancake, Annie?” her dad asked. “You and mum aren’t having a joke at my expense, are you? Pancakes just don’t disappear!”
Annie began to cry. "Well this jolly old stinker did! This one did! I want my pancake!"
Her parents tried to comfort her, but it was no use. Just then, Annie noticed that the kitchen window was open and she wondered if the pancake had decided to somersault out of it and into the garden. Annie and her parents went outside to look for it, but they couldn't find it.
Back inside the house, time was moving on and the clock struck six. But, unless you’d counted all the chimes, you wouldn't have known it was six o'clock. When Annie had tossed the pancake into the air, the falling pancake fell towards the floor on its way down, but it never reached the ground. The missing pancake had stuck to the face of the clock! As the clock struck six, the pancake fell off and landed sticky-side up on the seat of dad’s comfy chair, but nobody saw it do so.
Annie and her parents got tired of looking for the pancake in the garden and came back inside the house. Dad sat down in his comfy chair. The pancake was on the chair, sticky side up and dad sat down on the pancake.
Annie’s dad was sitting on the pancake, and the pancake was sticking to dad’s bottom. Annie decided to ask mum if she could make another pancake. Mum said they had used up all the flour.
"Never mind," said dad, "you can make another pancake tomorrow, Annie."
"But that won't be the same," said Annie. "Tomorrow isn't Pancake Day. I want to make my pancake today!"
When Annie’s parents realised how determined she was to make a pancake that day, they agreed they would all go to the corner shop to buy some more flour. Nobody realised that the missing pancake was on that chair, and that when dad got up; the pancake got up with him.
On the way to the shop, they passed their neighbour, Mr Taylor, who was coming the other way. Every time Annie met Mr Taylor, she would stop and speak to him.