I'm out of here!

Tuesday, July 22 08

How can five children be so different in 24 hours? All they seemed to do was moan, groan, whinge, whine and moan some more.

“It’s not so bad when one is doing it, but when they all take their turns during the course of the day, it’s as if they’re going at it all the time. Mr Bennet better watch what he says when he gets home, otherwise I’m definitely getting on a plane out of here!” considered Mrs Bennet.

She hadn’t quite got to the airport, but she was “out of here” just the same – in her familiar hiding place in a certain café five minutes drive from home. It was irrelevant about the close proximity – this was her “shed” for now while her own was in the planning stage. Mr Bennet had only returned home a few minutes ago, and already she was taking refuge with her toy-boy substitute – extra hot, medium, soothing and hitting the right spot. Alright well it was only a latte, but it served the same purpose! She always asked for it to be extra hot because if it was too cold she ended up drinking it before she had time to savour it. By being a tad on the hot side, it meant she had to sip slowly and therefore she could ponder whilst doing so.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like being with her children. She loved spending time with them, creating and making. But it was the drone of negativity which dragged her down. Being a positive person, it was like swimming against a tide to counter-act the ungrateful words muttered from the Miss Bennets.

It hadn’t been the most exciting start to the day. Who could blame them for being dragged to the dentist to wait while their Mum got her only five minute break – sitting in the dentist chair being looked at by a dishy young man.

“You know you’re getting old when the people who are trying to fix parts of your anatomy which are beginning to let you down, are much younger than you!” she thought as she sat obediently, praying there wouldn’t be anything other than a check-up to pay for. Her maternity exemption had run out as the dentist was a private one, she could easily hand over her shopping money in one go.

Give them credit, the little Bennets had been good. Mrs Bennet’s own mum had been brought along for re-inforcement and she had such a calming influence on everyone around her. But once out of the dentist, the Bennets turned into whinge-buckets again, protesting at the walk, demanding they were hungry and needed something to do.

A pizza, several rounds of toast and drinks later, Mrs Bennet’s purse was looking a little empty. But so relieved she didn’t need any treatment didn’t mind treating her brood to lunch.

The aim of today was to visit a Science Fair, organised by Cambridge university students. As little twin Bennets were happily dozing in their pushchair, Mrs Bennet got to play with a giant hand, pulling strings to get the bones to move; whizzing round on a stool with weights in her hand, watching her children construct bridges and looking at a house fly wing close up 400 times its size.

“You can tell their intellectuals. You ask them a question and they can’t look you in the eye. In fact they don’t know where to look!” informed a fellow mum as I joined her to watch a beach ball being propelled upwards on a current of air.

Mrs Bennet wasn’t large chested at all, so she didn’t have that problem of certain individuals talking below her chin. But she did have friends who did and she could see the frustrations of it all.

“I don’t blame the students. Best not to look anywhere, save embarrassment,” she decided.

Occupied for an hour, the Bennet girls did enjoy their science lessons, but promptly went into sulk mode when Mrs Bennet declared it was time to return to the car.

“We don’t want to go home. We want to go to the nice bakery! Now!” Such demands were not greeted with grace by Mrs Bennet. In fact it made her more determined to get them home. The more she strode on, the more they protested.

This kind of behaviour continued throughout the afternoon, leaving Mrs Bennet rather frazzled, so much so she wrote a warning email to her husband.

“Dear Mr Bennet,
Your children have constantly moaned, groaned and whinged. In fact their behaviour today has been awful. I just thought I’d better warn you should you get your head snapped off as you walk through the door! Love Mrs B."

Having got that off her chest, she ordered her offspring into the garden to enjoy the dry weather and refused to let them in until they’d had some fresh air. A mini sports event followed, involving a small box, three potatoes, three satsumas and a hula hoop which Mrs Bennet managed to secure to a thin Elm tree with gaffa tape and her washing line.

There were a few protests as rules weren’t abided to, but at least it did amuse and entertain those in earshot – including one of the twin Bennets - if not the participants themselves.

As Mrs Bennet drank the dregs of her second lover, she thought about the day and relaxed a little. If she didn’t return for another half an hour she knew Mr Bennet would have bathed the children. She couldn’t fault him on his fatherly duties. Sometimes she just wished she could spend as much time with him as she did her latte.