Thursday, March 19 ‘09
Mrs Bennet was grateful there wasn’t a Mr Collins in her life. Jane Austen’s version sent Mrs Bennet in a frenzy, particularly as he stood to inherit the estate at Longbourne when Mr Bennet died. Ordered to marry by the insufferable Lady Catherine de Burgh, considered “far superior to the handsomest of her sex”, he aimed his so-called affections at Miss Jane Bennet, then quickly transferred them to Elizabeth, when told Jane may well be taken.
As far as she was aware Modern Mrs Bennet didn’t have any Lady Catherine characters lurking in the background either. Although at times she did quiver in her size three Dr Marten boots, if in the presence of overwhelming forthright females. It probably stemmed back to her days at an all girls grammar school, where “truth, honour, freedom and courtesy” was the motto, and respect for authority drummed in. Times were different now and long were the days when girls had to wear six-panel A-line skirts, six inches below the knee and beige socks that really didn’t go with the shocking cerise tie and striped pink and white shirt. If caught without the top button done up, with its partner in crime, a rebelliously threaded tie, it meant an instant order mark or worse still detention.
The voice of authority, the voice of someone who could easily have played the part of Lady Catherine de Burgh, still echoed on occasion in Mrs Bennet’s ears. But they were only echoes. She did wonder whether there might be a few Mr Collins about in the infant playground. Some – according to her daughters - seemed to change their affections towards certain little ladies on a daily basis. There were always the faithful Bingleys though who remained glued to the side of only one female and remained on good terms with her by Year 2.
Amazed that the search for Darcys began at playgroup, Mrs Bennet was intrigued by the Miss Bennets’ thoughts on the subject of marriage, which regularly popped up. What she hadn’t anticipated was the subject matter arising at such a young age. All three of her elder daughters’ quest for the ideal man had begun before they even knew what a playground was. Their mullings over the latest dish in the home corner or sandpit had been a frequent topic of conversation as their role plays with each other, various plastic characters or dolls revealed.
School and the introduction to a new batch of boys just added to their intrigue and interest. Miss Megan Bennet was particularly drawn to a sweet dark-haired little Darcy, slightly smaller than herself. After the first week in reception class, she boldly announced:
“I just love him, he’s so cute!” And this from a four-year-old! Miss Bennet’s teacher had also noted this particular attraction.
“I don’t like to say this, but I think you may have a Lydia Bennet on your hands!”
Mrs Bennet made a mental note to keep Miss Megan away from soldiers. Much as she wanted her to have a Darcy, she didn’t particularly wish for her daughter to elope at 16.
“I did want to marry Harry first Mummy, but he wants to marry Hannah, but Sean says he’ll marry me,” Miss Bennet explained.
So that was alright then. At four, life was so simple. At 40, Mrs Bennet knew it was not.
Showing posts with label Darcys. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Darcys. Show all posts
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Thursday, 15 January 2009
The zapping power of Mrs Bennet
Thursday, January 15 09
It was a sad day for Mrs Bennet. It marked the end of a very long baby era. Miss Kezia Bennet had finally – five months after her twin sister – started walking. She had mastered, what Mrs Bennet’s friends considered a brilliant impression of Charlie Chaplin minus his mustache. To add to this comical walk, Miss Bennet, rather partial to a certain Dora the Explorer umbrella, used it like Chaplin’s walking stick, waving it as she went, with a Cheshire Cat grin on her face. Mrs Bennet thought she resembled a penguin, her tiny feet fanning outwards as she carefully waddled her way around new territory.
Up until this point Mrs Bennet had therefore been spared the issue of two walking twins. But finally at 20 months, the real fun started. She unfortunately made the mistake of lifting the legs out of the supermarket trolley. Now free to roam along the wide aisles, the chubby legs were in their element. Being independent, they went in opposite directions, making it all the more impossible to catch them or shop.
Eventually Mrs Bennet scooped them up as best she could – and plonked them inside the trolley rather than in the seats as their little legs pedalled furiously.
Observing rebellion in the camp, a warm friendly lady, with funky white, purple and red hair and trendy glasses bounced up to her.
“Have you ever thought of using one of these?” she asked, holding up a zapper.
“Not really. I thought you had to be a store card holder,” she replied.
“Oh no anyone can use one. I think you'll find it really helpful and it means you don’t have to queue at the till,” announced the lady, who like Mrs Bennet, was clearly a fan of Jenny Joseph’s award-winning poem, Warning.
“Sounds good to me…and by the way I love your hair. I’ve decided to grow old disgracefully and have purple streaks too,” chuckled Mrs Bennet.
“Absolutely!” the kind zapper lady replied. Mrs Bennet liked this lady.
The zapping lesson didn’t start until the next morning as Mrs Bennet had abandoned all hope of buying the few items she needed. But now armed with this impressive gizmo, she was looking forward to shooting a few things.
Her trainer showed her how to zap the bar codes, check how much she was spending and more importantly how to remove objects if she found something better.
Zap, zap, zap went Mrs Bennet. Ooh, Ooh, Ooh went the Misses Twin Bennets, intrigued by Mummy’s new toy.
It was quite liberating. Mrs Bennet wished life could be this simple. She thought about her five daughters. If only she could go shopping for Darcys. Just imagine shelves full of future son-in-laws! How great that would be to zap a few, then eradicate them if she saw one who looked more suitable!
The Zapper lady checked her apprentice’s progress.
“I’m off for a tea break and wanted to see if you’re OK,” she said.
“I’m fine. This is great. I only wish I could use it on everything and everyone,” Mrs Bennet joked.
The minute her trainer disappeared, Mrs Bennet got into trouble. She’d zapped a pot of double cream by mistake but in trying to unzap the item, she managed to add one and then another, and then another, until according to her zapper, she had six pots in her trolley. By this time the Miss Twin Bennets were no longer enthralled by their mother’s toy, and started to object. Determined to master her zapper, Mrs Bennet tried zapping with the minus button. It worked.
“Hey this is easy when you know how!” declared a victorious Mrs Bennet, proceeding to the zapping counter, which of course had no queue. Queues and children didn’t get on.
“I can pay with cash can’t I?” she asked a lovely young girl, who shared Mrs Bennet’s sense of humour.
“You can pay with anything, apart from pounds of flesh,” she wittingly replied.
“I don’t really have any to spare anyway,” said Mrs Bennet, exhilarated by her first zapping experience.
To have a sizzling hot Mr Latte and to be introduced to her new friend Mr Zapper in one morning, was almost too much. She went back home to the Darcys in the Dirt – half wishing she could try out the zapper on them!
It was a sad day for Mrs Bennet. It marked the end of a very long baby era. Miss Kezia Bennet had finally – five months after her twin sister – started walking. She had mastered, what Mrs Bennet’s friends considered a brilliant impression of Charlie Chaplin minus his mustache. To add to this comical walk, Miss Bennet, rather partial to a certain Dora the Explorer umbrella, used it like Chaplin’s walking stick, waving it as she went, with a Cheshire Cat grin on her face. Mrs Bennet thought she resembled a penguin, her tiny feet fanning outwards as she carefully waddled her way around new territory.
Up until this point Mrs Bennet had therefore been spared the issue of two walking twins. But finally at 20 months, the real fun started. She unfortunately made the mistake of lifting the legs out of the supermarket trolley. Now free to roam along the wide aisles, the chubby legs were in their element. Being independent, they went in opposite directions, making it all the more impossible to catch them or shop.
Eventually Mrs Bennet scooped them up as best she could – and plonked them inside the trolley rather than in the seats as their little legs pedalled furiously.
Observing rebellion in the camp, a warm friendly lady, with funky white, purple and red hair and trendy glasses bounced up to her.
“Have you ever thought of using one of these?” she asked, holding up a zapper.
“Not really. I thought you had to be a store card holder,” she replied.
“Oh no anyone can use one. I think you'll find it really helpful and it means you don’t have to queue at the till,” announced the lady, who like Mrs Bennet, was clearly a fan of Jenny Joseph’s award-winning poem, Warning.
“Sounds good to me…and by the way I love your hair. I’ve decided to grow old disgracefully and have purple streaks too,” chuckled Mrs Bennet.
“Absolutely!” the kind zapper lady replied. Mrs Bennet liked this lady.
The zapping lesson didn’t start until the next morning as Mrs Bennet had abandoned all hope of buying the few items she needed. But now armed with this impressive gizmo, she was looking forward to shooting a few things.
Her trainer showed her how to zap the bar codes, check how much she was spending and more importantly how to remove objects if she found something better.
Zap, zap, zap went Mrs Bennet. Ooh, Ooh, Ooh went the Misses Twin Bennets, intrigued by Mummy’s new toy.
It was quite liberating. Mrs Bennet wished life could be this simple. She thought about her five daughters. If only she could go shopping for Darcys. Just imagine shelves full of future son-in-laws! How great that would be to zap a few, then eradicate them if she saw one who looked more suitable!
The Zapper lady checked her apprentice’s progress.
“I’m off for a tea break and wanted to see if you’re OK,” she said.
“I’m fine. This is great. I only wish I could use it on everything and everyone,” Mrs Bennet joked.
The minute her trainer disappeared, Mrs Bennet got into trouble. She’d zapped a pot of double cream by mistake but in trying to unzap the item, she managed to add one and then another, and then another, until according to her zapper, she had six pots in her trolley. By this time the Miss Twin Bennets were no longer enthralled by their mother’s toy, and started to object. Determined to master her zapper, Mrs Bennet tried zapping with the minus button. It worked.
“Hey this is easy when you know how!” declared a victorious Mrs Bennet, proceeding to the zapping counter, which of course had no queue. Queues and children didn’t get on.
“I can pay with cash can’t I?” she asked a lovely young girl, who shared Mrs Bennet’s sense of humour.
“You can pay with anything, apart from pounds of flesh,” she wittingly replied.
“I don’t really have any to spare anyway,” said Mrs Bennet, exhilarated by her first zapping experience.
To have a sizzling hot Mr Latte and to be introduced to her new friend Mr Zapper in one morning, was almost too much. She went back home to the Darcys in the Dirt – half wishing she could try out the zapper on them!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
