Mrs Bennet off her leash

Wednesday, March 11 ‘09

Mrs Bennet watched Miss Bennet Number Two cartwheel into the lounge. Most children walked in. This Miss Bennet generally bounced in – not always taking note where she landed or on whom she landed. The object in question was usually a smaller sibling, her mother’s foot or a baby doll’s head. Miss Bennet was in many respects like Winnie the Pooh’s Tigger friend, or a puppy dog. And the more Mrs Bennet got to know the intricate workings of her young daughter, the more she realised she was a mini version of herself.
Mrs Bennet also regularly needed a run to release her energy. But it was largely due to the fact she wanted to escape from responsibility for half an hour. It was mental space. Space where there were no demands, no sticky fingers clinging onto her legs, no runny noses to wipe, no nappy smells to deal with and no hungry mouths to feed.
The road or the treadmill didn’t expect anything of her. They welcomed her pounding footsteps and asked no questions. They provided a place where she could disappear to and forget she was a mother just for a few minutes, until the crèche lady came and asked if she could kindly sort out a stinking bottom or two. As the rain was in full pelt mode, Mrs Bennet joined the line-up of joggers on their respective running machines and got to work. And work it was. Running in heavy rain would have been easy compared to this. She stared at the machine. It was swaying side to side as she stood on it. And that was before she’d even started moving. The sheer force of the pounding feet in front and behind her was giving Mrs Bennet’s own running machine an inferiority complex. It couldn’t cope with the pressure. Trying to put aside the increasing seasickness, Mrs Bennet pushed the buttons and attempted to run. But after a mile, the swaying motion hadn’t ceased. She was beginning to feel quite peculiar and decided to wait until the running sharks had left and the waves had calmed down.
Incidentally Mrs Bennet knew the sharks were harmless. Indeed they were very friendly, but for a mother who wanted a quiet, uneventful run into oblivion, the waves were just too much.
A few minutes later, the sharks were off climbing mountains and rowing across rapids. She jumped on her favoured machine, turned up her MP3 player to drown out everything and everyone, and pretended to run away into a world, where for 35 minutes, no one demanded anything of her and her mind was allowed to drift off, turn off and enjoy the moment.
Tired, but refreshed, Mrs Bennet returned to reality. As she walked through the door, the Tigger child came towards her, landing a perfect cartwheel at her feet. It was obvious this puppy dog needed her daily run too. Mrs Bennet made a mental note to buy a lead and a tin of Pedigree Chum.