Monday, September 1 08
“Phew we’ve reached September!” declared Mrs Bennet with an air of triumph. “A few bruises, a sore tooth, a bit soggy and frayed nerves, but we're near the end. The Summer Horridays are almost over.”
For some reason the children’s voices were reaching heights they shouldn’t reach and their bodies were doing much the same. And that was without E numbers.
“What can we do Mummy?” and “I’m bored, there’s nothing to do,” were the resounding cries, mingled with the usual “I’m hungry,” “She’s being horrible to me,” and “No, I’m not putting it away!” It was the final leg of the school holiday marathon and everyone was flagging.
To cheer the tired athletes, Mrs Bennet thought it would be a good idea if the Miss Bennets invited a few friends to the Bennet cinema complex. The mashed potato weather meant meeting in the park was off. So tickets were created, a seating plan devised, lounge lights went out and film viewers were shown their allocated numbered chairs by torchlight. All was going well until the twin Bennets were added to the auditorium. Bewildered by four extra screaming females and the fact their playground was plunged in darkness, they freaked out and had to be rescued. Behaviour which normally applied in cinema settings no longer applied and what Mrs Bennet thought would be an easy couple of hours, involved little people wondering about in search of popcorn, chocolate and toilet; loud chatter from the older viewers in the back row and outcries from those on the small front seats, who really wanted to watch the film thank you very much. The cinema owner was forced to expel the two elder Bennets and their friends to the projector room upstairs, where their voices and bodies continued to bounce in ping-ball fashion.
Mrs Bennet's body didn’t bounce as well as her children’s. Her bare feet slipped on the stairs, plunging her undaintily downwards. She was holding Miss Kezia Bennet at the time. So concerned was she for her daughter's well being, she forgot her own, tightened her grip round the babe and left no free hand to stop the fall. A chest of drawers did it for her. Mrs Bennet sat in a crumbled heap, confused and hurt. Miss Kezia Bennet was full of smiles, enjoyed the ride and was clearly up for more. However Mrs Bennet's lack of bounce momentarily cured the bouncing problem of the Miss Bennets. So stunned by her performance, the elder Miss Bennets stopped their Tigger antics. Instead in Pooh Bear-like, they were ready to offer their last lick of honey to revive their poor mother. She would have preferred something stronger, but having someone to hand over an excited flapping child was enough to give her time to stop shaking and get her legs reworking.
In the car a few hours later she got lost looking for a willow sculptor she was supposed to be interviewing and had to call in on close friends for help. It would have been acceptable if it was miles away. But it was in the very village she had spent her childhood! She blamed it on the fall.
Three hours later she returned to a concerned Mr Bennet, who was not at all surprised by his wife's explanation. Distinguishing left and right was not one of Mrs Bennet’s strengths and she knew for once Mr Latte couldn’t be blamed. Realising she wouldn't get sympathy from her husband, she turned to the bath for comfort. As she sunk below the bubbles, she vowed a) to choose a safer way of getting down the stairs and b) not to have nine children.
Monday, 1 September 2008
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