Spag and Bol

Thursday, March 26 '09

Spag and Bol were a pair of comedians. They were poles apart in many respects, yet they had one delightful attribute in common - a sense of humour. Mrs Bennet affectionately referred to them as Spag and Bol (although not to their faces) simply because they were like the combination Spaghetti Bolognese: different components, yet together a delicious item. Miss Bennets Numbers Four and Five were Mrs Bennet's gin and tonic. They kept her going and never failed to make her smile or laugh no matter how stressed, hormonal or sleep-deprived she might feel.
Mrs Bennet was crouched down behind Spag and Bol's bedroom door with her radio microphone held to the gap. They were doing what they did best - an excellent impression of two animated old ladies leaning over the garden fence. Both girls were holding on to their respective cot bars bouncing up and down and giggling at each other.
"Woobedooodeegoooaaahhh. Goodeeebaaa?"
"Woobedoooo, ahhhh."
"Hee hee, hee hee."
From an audio point of view, it reminded Mrs Bennet of The Clangers or Bill and Ben. Mrs Bennet thought she was probably the Soup Dragon or Weed, as the two lead characters always got suitably excited when she appeared. Her hand wobbled from holding the microphone still for so long, but she had what she needed. This was Spagbolese - the Bennet twins' official language. A language which excluded their mother, who hadn't been given a Spagbolese dictionary. The authors however were fluent and felt they didn't need to learn English. Oh, they knew what Mrs Bennet said alright. When she said: "OK girls time to go up," they proceeded to climb the stairs as fast as their little legs could take them. Over the past few months they'd uttered Mummy, Daddy, gone, baby, down, up, Kezzie, Jannie, bath, biscuit etc. but apart from the first two words, they had said these only once and refused point blank with a "no" and a nod of the head to repeat them. Kezia Bennet had even announced "see you soon," after hearing a toy phone declare the sentiment. But no matter how hard Mrs Bennet tried to persuade her to repeat it, Bol kept her lips sealed. Both twins were forever chatting and singing in Spagbolese and Mrs Bennet wondered if she should try and learn it for herself, because whilst her nearly two-year-olds had a vast vocabulary, it was unfortunately not understood by anyone else.
"Your child should now have a vocabulary of about 200 words," a recent email had informed her. If it had referred to Miss Bennet Number Three at 22 months, then it would have been quite accurate.
"Mmm..two more like," she muttered, "What do they know? And what do i know more like, I've never had twins before." She wasn't too worried though. She'd met up with two fellow twin mums and their boy/girl combinations were conversing in a similar way. The boys took great delight in pulling their sisters' hair on a daily basis. Mrss Bennet hadn't had this issue to deal with, but Spag and Bol were far from perfect. Their comical tendencies just outweighed the strops and mini scraps which sometimes broke out over a toy pushchair.
Mrs Bennet put her recording equipment away and decided to do something creative with the sound effects, perhaps presenting it to her daughters in 16 years time.
At six o'clock, the time when World War III was at its most dangerous, Mr Bennet came home.
"Woobedegoootea,do bego?" Mrs Bennet asked him.
"Sorry...."
"My dear, it's a new language. It's "do you want a cup of tea," in Spagbolese."
"Never heard of it, but yes please," he replied.
"Well we had better both start learning it. It's been devised by our youngest daughters who already have an A level in it."
As if on cue, Spag and Bol burst through the lounge door, ran to Mr Bennet and proceeded to excitedly babble away in Spagbolese.