Why don't men look at ground level?

Saturday, July 26 08

Mrs Bennet used to consider Saturday her favourite day of the week. That was when she was younger and had no responsibilities. Then Sunday afternoon had been the worse part, usually when Songs of Praise was on. Not that she had anything against the programme, it was the fact it represented the eve before Monday, which either meant back to studying or work, depending whether she was in her teens or twenties. As she was approaching the last year of her thirties, it was Saturday she dreaded most. Now this might seem odd, but it was all down to false expectations.

“You’d think I’d be pleased it was the weekend – quality family time and all that. Only it doesn’t always work like that,” she thought.

In theory Saturday represented a day when there should be four hands to the children’s ten. Mr Bennet was home, but unlike his ability to leave his work hat behind, Mrs Bennet found she hardly took hers off. And instead of clearing up after her five offspring, she discovered there were size 8 shoes to pick up, shirts to put away and another body to make more mess.

“Why is that men don’t seem to look at floor level. They look ahead of them, but the fact a headless doll or a marble is next to their foot, they can’t seem to see it!” she muttered.

Mr Bennet, who was by nature laid back, was able to read a paper, watch football and not be disturbed by the growing mound of toys around him. This only served to make Mrs Bennet cross. She liked to see at least one clear spot, even if it was a corner in her kitchen. But she couldn’t fault Mr Bennet as he appreciated she needed some child-free time and would send her out of the house into the arms of Mr Latte. Often Mrs Bennet would go for a run round the block or take herself off and read a newspaper just because she could. What she read was irrelevant. It was a break. But the only trouble was returning to a house completely cluttered by every book, brick, felt tip, baby toy, toast crumbs and spilt drinks only served to take away any good the break had achieved.

Mrs Bennet would just give her husband the look and walk upstairs. His cue to get the children to help put some of it away, because he knew if they didn’t the vacuum cleaner would come out and do the work for them!

But today, Saturday July 26th was different. Why, she couldn’t quite decide. Perhaps it’s because she was so used to having all five girls home that Saturday was no longer a contrast to the week days when they were at school.

“This is one benefit to the summer holidays. The house is such a mess anyway, the usual carpet chaos on a Saturday doesn’t annoy me, because it can’t get much worse. For once I choose to enjoy my break and NOT let the house bother me,” she decided.

“And anyway, if I don’t get used to mess now, I will by October when the builder moves in!”

She tried to dismiss the truth of what she just said with a laugh. Because really she felt quite overwhelmed by the whole process and for now, just getting through the summer holidays was enough. But at least she had survived the first week – just!