Paddies and pancakes

Sunday, July 27 08

Next-door’s cat decided to investigate the Bennet picnic basket, which meant the picnic rug was now empty of little Bennets, leaving Mrs Bennet with the food and noone to share it with. Due to the pleasant spell of hot weather, Mrs Bennet decided it was a good idea to eat “al fresco”, and with the promise of the paddling pool for after-lunch entertainment, the three older Miss Bennets agreed. The younger Bennets had no choice in the matter, they were in their cots asleep.
Having left Mr Bennet with all five children for an hour, she felt it only right to at least take the older three Miss Bennets – the ones who were regularly polishing their answering-back skills – out with her for a walk. They had been badgering Mrs Bennet to let them take her to a place called The Heavens, where Miss Naomi Bennet had been for a birthday picnic with one of her school friends. The name sounded so appealing, Mrs Bennet decided that yes, she would like to go to The Heavens especially if there was a swimming pool and glass of Pimms on offer. It was more wisdom on her part, or was it to steady her poor nerves that she called a mature friend to ask if she wanted to join them. Mr Bennet would have quite happily let the children lead his wife off into the unknown, but she, knowing the potential for strops, grazes and the “I’m tired,” decided to call for reinforcement. How right she was. The first half an hour was perfect, a leisurely stroll through cemetery, lane and woodlands brought them into a clearing, which was as the name suggests, just heavenly and beautifully untouched. Happy to play in the stream, move a few pebbles, find sticks to write in the mud and nibble on emergency rations in Mrs Bennet’s rucksack, all was well. That was until Miss Naomi Bennet discovered the rope swing in the impressive Oak tree had swung its last and was wrapped around a branch too high for any adult to reach. The whimpering started. She was looking forward to having a swing and it was hard to put right such disappointment. She was momentarily distracted by her simple writing implement, a thin pointed stick which made the ideal pencil. Proud of this find, she popped it in her collecting tray, along with a piece of bark, which Mrs Bennet had suggested might make a good rubbing with crayons. The moaning temporarily appeased, the five of them proceeded on their walk. Another 15 minutes later, Mrs Bennet discovered what would become the catalyst of the walk’s downfall.

“Look girls, I do believe I’ve found a swing with a seat to sit on. There you are it was worth coming after all,” she explained cheerfully, grateful of her find.

However, although all three girls eagerly had a go, because Mrs Bennet refused to stay as long as they would have liked, the protests began. And in the process of getting on the said swing, Miss Naomi Bennet lost her precious stick pencil, blamed her mother for making her get on the swing in the first place and proceeded to gripe and groan in time with her stamping feet.

“It’s all your fault! You just don’t care about me. I’m going back to find it. That was a really special to me,” said the feet’s voice, promptly turning round and strutting off in the opposite direction. Mrs Bennet kept walking and couldn’t resist shouting back: “See you tomorrow then!”

She recognised what her daughter was suffering from was emotional flooding, a condition where emotion was so strong, like flood water it reached high levels. In Miss Bennet’s case the level rose above the ears, which meant any attempts to reason with her couldn’t be heard. Until the waters dropped, there was no point in arguing. Her younger siblings did it for her.

“No, Mummy! We can’t go home without Naomi! You can’t leave her here!” Mrs Bennet tried whispering reassurances to them, but these were drowned out by their sister, who, realising no one was following her, had made a U-turn, but wasn’t quiet about doing so. Mrs Bennet stole a smile with her friend, grateful to have an adult to share the moment. Thirty minutes of crying was rather draining, but somehow they managed to get home, with the Miss Bennets two and three looking out for pointed sticks to present to Miss Bennet One once the flooding had resided.

Tossing a pancake within 20 minutes of arriving at the Bennet household, Mrs Bennet wondered why she was doing such a hot activity when temperatures outside were reaching 80 degrees. Mr Bennet also wondered.

“Why are you making pancakes my dear Mrs Bennet?” he questioned bemused.

“It’s because when we were walking down a steep hill on our way home, we had to avoid the pancakes or cow pats, and the children asked if they could have them for tea! It’s called the seefood diet, they see, get a picture and want it. In this case they saw chocolate coloured cowpats and immediately thought of pancakes with sugar, lemon and Golden Syrup came to mind. That’s children for you!” she replied.

“And that’s mothers for you, to carry out their requests!” mumbled Mr Bennet, as a pancake missed the pan and hit him on the head.