Monday, November 18 08
Mrs Bennet drew herself up to her new height of five foot three and promptly fell over. High-heeled boots were all very well in enabling her to feel like an adult - and not just a Mummy - but it didn’t mean she necessarily walked like one. A friend she met 38 years ago in the playgroup Wendy House, was celebrating her 40th birthday, and Mrs Bennet couldn’t wait. She was off to spend a few hours in a luxury spa with fellow mums, who too needed a few hours off child responsibility.
She felt like a care-free giggly girl as she tried her spa slippers on. Her feet looked ridiculously small in the cumbersome white indoor shoes, which both veered sharply to the right, causing her to walk like a crab. And as the over-sized white gown wrapped round her twice, it had the amusing effect of making her feel like a four-year-old who’d raided her mother’s wardrobe, rather than an-almost-40-year-old.
But after a back massage which painfully ironed out her knotted shoulders, a relaxing swim and a leisurely 45 minutes, glass of Champagne in hand, chatting amicably with new friends in a bubbling hot tub in the cold night air, warmed sufficiently by a roaring fire, Mrs Bennet didn’t want to go back to being a Mummy. She wanted to stay here forever.
However as the clock struck midnight, she kicked off her glass slippers and retreated back to being Cinders. The silence of a sleeping house was shattered as an electronic toy teddy sensed her presence and started crying.
“Shhh! You’re not really hungry,” she told it, using the same tone she used on the little Bennets. But she knew if she didn’t stop and feed this tiny bear with its minute bottle, the real children would awake.
“Yum, yum, yum…” went the bear, until it finally sighed and said, “I love you.”
“That’s very kind of you, now go to sleep,” she automatically replied.
“Now I’m talking to toys. I really need to get out more. I wonder if Mr Bennet would notice if I hid a hot tub and a stash of Champagne in my shed?” she daydreamed, adding: “He mightn’t but the neighbours would!”
Showing posts with label massage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label massage. Show all posts
Monday, 17 November 2008
Sunday, 26 October 2008
Shaken but not stirred
Friday, October 24 08
The radiators rattled, Mrs Bennet’s bottom shook on her chair while three doors away her neighbour enjoyed a Jacuzzi. It was all thanks to the latest building brigade in the Bennet garden. The Bingleys had moved in. They were foundation specialists on loan for just five days to ensure the Bennet household didn’t crumble.
“If your house feels as if it’s moving, don’t worry it won’t fall down,” one of the Bingleys had reassured Mrs Bennet as they arrived with drills, long metal tubes and cement mixers.
As they drilled holes eight metres deep, she wasn’t convinced. This was serious dental treatment. Mrs Bennet was grateful it wasn’t her teeth on the receiving end.
Miss Bennets One, Two and Three were at school and therefore away from the excitement. But having been deprived of male action for a week, the little twin Bennets were ecstatic. Their tiny bodies were glued to the lounge window, button noses pressed against the glass and rose-bud lips creating kiss marks. The Bingleys gave them the occasional smile but remained focus on the job in hand. Mrs Bennet couldn’t focus so she took the twins out, long enough to tire them. Amazingly, on their return, they slept for two hours as the house – and their cots – shook beneath them. Mrs Bennet tried to edit a radio interview but as she couldn’t hear anything but drilling through her headphones, gave up. As her seat suddenly turned into a massage chair, she let it do its work. Relaxing, Mrs Bennet pondered, recalling her neighbour’s comments as she apologised for the disruption.
“The builders can stay as long as they like. I was having a bath this afternoon and it’s the first time I’ve ever had a Jacuzzi in it!”
Mrs Bennet, now soothed by her vibrating chair, was tempted.
“The twins are asleep, perhaps I’ll have a bath myself!” she contemplated.
Running upstairs to the bathroom, she turned on the hot water tap, then reconsidered.
“Better not. What if the Bingleys need the toilet and come in? That would take some explaining when Mr Bennet got home,” she thought. The Jacuzzi moment had gone so Mrs Bennet went back to her massage chair, stuck cotton wool in her ears and dozed off for half an hour.
The radiators rattled, Mrs Bennet’s bottom shook on her chair while three doors away her neighbour enjoyed a Jacuzzi. It was all thanks to the latest building brigade in the Bennet garden. The Bingleys had moved in. They were foundation specialists on loan for just five days to ensure the Bennet household didn’t crumble.
“If your house feels as if it’s moving, don’t worry it won’t fall down,” one of the Bingleys had reassured Mrs Bennet as they arrived with drills, long metal tubes and cement mixers.
As they drilled holes eight metres deep, she wasn’t convinced. This was serious dental treatment. Mrs Bennet was grateful it wasn’t her teeth on the receiving end.
Miss Bennets One, Two and Three were at school and therefore away from the excitement. But having been deprived of male action for a week, the little twin Bennets were ecstatic. Their tiny bodies were glued to the lounge window, button noses pressed against the glass and rose-bud lips creating kiss marks. The Bingleys gave them the occasional smile but remained focus on the job in hand. Mrs Bennet couldn’t focus so she took the twins out, long enough to tire them. Amazingly, on their return, they slept for two hours as the house – and their cots – shook beneath them. Mrs Bennet tried to edit a radio interview but as she couldn’t hear anything but drilling through her headphones, gave up. As her seat suddenly turned into a massage chair, she let it do its work. Relaxing, Mrs Bennet pondered, recalling her neighbour’s comments as she apologised for the disruption.
“The builders can stay as long as they like. I was having a bath this afternoon and it’s the first time I’ve ever had a Jacuzzi in it!”
Mrs Bennet, now soothed by her vibrating chair, was tempted.
“The twins are asleep, perhaps I’ll have a bath myself!” she contemplated.
Running upstairs to the bathroom, she turned on the hot water tap, then reconsidered.
“Better not. What if the Bingleys need the toilet and come in? That would take some explaining when Mr Bennet got home,” she thought. The Jacuzzi moment had gone so Mrs Bennet went back to her massage chair, stuck cotton wool in her ears and dozed off for half an hour.
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