High price for spending a penny

Monday, June 8 ‘09

Trying to spend a penny with two little people, or even five as was often the case, was no easy task. When nature called, it was a costly trip for Mrs Bennet. Negotiating a double buggy through the toilet door was one thing, trying to entertain two impatient children while she did her business, was another. And when all five little Miss Bennets were with her, it was almost impossible, especially when they decided they needed to go at different intervals and at the most inconvenient moment. A double dose of potty training was looming on the horizon and Mrs Bennet was approaching the prospect with fear and trepidation.
Toilet trips were therefore not expeditions to take lightly. And this one had a heavy price. Mrs Bennet was in her favourite supermarket, precariously balancing Spag and Bol on a grown-up café seat because they refused to swing their legs into a high chair. As the call of nature was pressing, and Jannie, having recently undergone surgery for breast cancer, couldn’t lift a toddler if required, Mrs Bennet opted for the best solution – hopping into the disabled toilet immediately next to her mother, so she could get back within minutes to resolve any lifting crisis.
“I’ll be quick, I promise,” she yelled. And quick she was. But the getting out process was by no means swift. Somehow in between locking herself in, and turning the lock to get out, the mechanism went limp and got stuck. Mrs Bennet couldn’t get out, and anyone outside, couldn’t get in. She was trapped.
“I suppose this is one way to get away from children,” she thought grimly. Confined in what must be a 200m square box, with a pungent nappy bin for company and not a window in sight, Mrs Bennet was steadily getting hotter as time elapsed. She knew there was no point in shouting, “Help!” as no one would hear her. Besides the door holding her captive, a heavy double door separated the toilet from the café.
She just hoped Spag and Bol were behaving themselves. They were at an age where sitting still was a foreign concept unless an apple or an orange – something which required effort and a long period of time to eat – was in their sticky paws. And Mrs Bennet knew they weren’t armed.
She noticed an emergency cord in the corner of her prison. It was the sort of thing Mr Bean would have pulled, simply because he wanted to know what happened if he did. It wasn’t the sort of thing a grown woman did just to see “what if?” But now she had an excuse. She really did need help.
She felt embarrassed she wasn’t a disabled person. But in a sense she was really glad it was herself and not an old lady trapped inside. She was feeling claustrophobic, although she knew from the sound of activity outside that someone had come to her rescue.
“We’re just getting the manager. Are you alright in there?” asked a familiar voice. Mrs Bennet used the café so much as a refuge and writing place with her trusted friend Mr Latte, that she was known by all staff. There was a struggle with the lock, but nothing was happening.
“I ran in here so I didn’t leave my mum with the twins too long. She can’t lift them. Please tell her I’m stuck in here,” Mrs Bennet shouted.
“It’s OK, she says you can stay in there as long as you like! She knows you need a break!”
Jannie had a point. It was a break of sorts. It just wasn't a venue she would have chosen. “Please don’t let the fire brigade get involved. I really don’t want my five minutes of fame in this scenario!” she silently prayed. Although who could complain having a Darcy in uniform running to their aid?
What seemed like hours later, the manager finally unscrewed the lock and let her out. Embarrassed, Mrs Bennet walked free. So many times she had used this tiny cubicle to change a nappy. Today she had only used it to avoid being longer than necessary for her mum’s sake. Spending a penny had proved a lot dearer than she anticipated.