Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #14: Ten Pictures?

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

This week, Mallory poses a classic question.

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More wishes. The answer is always more wishes.

Meanwhile, Mary Anne receives a special gift from Logan.

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Ten pictures!? TEN PICTURES!? Are you serious? How big is this locket? Is it the size of Flavor Flav’s clock? A locket is supposed to hold, at most, two pictures. Ten pictures in one locket? I need to see this St. Bernard of jewelry.

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Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #13: A Slow Week

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

Another week, no letter. I’m wondering if the BSC forgot I was their newest member! I did get a phone call from Stacey, who wondered if I have used the BSC Secret Scrambler yet. Maybe that’s why they won’t send me a letter. Or maybe they’re busy.

They must be, because Mary Anne was the only one who wrote in the BSC notebook this week.

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Think about the poor kid who had to use a fake grandma for the Bring A Grandparent To Show And Tell Day.

Honestly, I’m happy there wasn’t much this week – I’m pretty booked up this week. Get it? Because I have two tests, a research paper, a short essay, and 40-pages of Medea due this week? Get it? Get it!?

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #12: Send In the Grandparents!

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

Consider the last episode of A Year With the BSC a cliffhanger!

When last we saw our babysitters, Abby was wondering when Grandparents’ Day is, and now we have our answer! Take it away, Kristy!

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Umm, that still didn’t really explain what Grandparents’ Day is. Maybe it’s a Connecticut thing. Hey, Connecticut, tell me if this is a thing there, would ya?

Also, I can’t believe that Kristy wrote in all-cursive-caps. It’s like she’s shouting at me. “Hey, little Amy, are you taking your grandparents to BRING YOUR GRANDPARENTS TO SCHOOL FOR SHOW AND TELL DAY, ya’ bitch!” “I was but now I’m scared you’ll give my grandmother a heart attack.”

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Yeah, Kristy, why didn’t you think about those of us who’ve lost our grandparents? I have never met my grandfathers but both of my grandmothers were involved in my life.

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Why did Stacey write this and not Kristy? Anyway, I guess it’s better than nothing. What about those kids who have no parents or grandparents, huh? They just go to school by day, work in an 18th-century factory by night, and have no relatives? What about those kids?

Jessi is here to change the subject.

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Man, a lot of parades in Stoneybrook. Every other book features a parade. And now more parades in The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. No joke. I haven’t seen a parade in, like, two decades. I think I was thirteen the last time I saw a parade. Also, it’s ironic that Claudia and the BSC did so much to get Sean Addison to appreciate his tuba, only to render it useless while he’s getting rained on.

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Yeah, Mary Anne, I read all about Kristy’s BRING YOUR GRANDPARENTS TO SCHOOL FOR SHOW AND TELL DAY. While children in other countries are learning second languages, geology, and painting, we’re listening to Grandma Ebby’s day at the fair.

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #11: The End of Summer

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

We start this week with some parting words from Dawn.

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This game must have been published after California Diaries: Palo City the fictional town that Dawn moves to later in the series. It’s sad to see her go, especially since she’s one of the better BSC members. (She does what she wants to, and wears what she wants without criticizing Mary Anne and Kristy’s outfits, unlike another member I know, Claudia.)

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Interesting prompt, Stacey. The end of the summer can be bittersweet. On one hand, you lose a bit of your freedom, but on the other, you’re going to school and bettering yourself – both for yourself and for humanity as a whole. While the end of summer-

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What the hell are you on, Abby? What the hell is Grandparents’ Day and why are you wondering what day it’s on in the BSC Notebook? What was I saying? Something about summer? Ugh, forget it. Now I need to look up what the hell Grandparents’ Day is.

 

 

Rereading My Childhood – The Baby-Sitters Club #2: Claudia and the Phantom Phone Calls

At one time, I was just collecting and reading The Baby-Sitters Club. I was going to Goodwill every two weeks, buying whichever books in the series I was missing. Then I’d go home and read one every once in a while. Sometime during Claudia and Mean Janine, I got the idea to review these as writing practice and maybe help me build a portfolio. That’s why the first one is Boy-Crazy Stacey.

After I wrote a few of those I went back to the beginning – for continuity’s sake. I can’t review two hundred BSC books and skip over the first seven for no discernable reason. I went back through Kristy’s Great Idea and wrote what became one of my favorite reviews. Then I came to this book and put it off. When it showed up again in the rotation, I did a different book.

Eventually, I had to take a deep breath and jump back into Claudia and the Phantom Phone Calls, much to my chagrin. I hate this book. There. Plain and simple. It has a terrible message, and terrible people get rewarded for doing terrible things. It’s a terrible ball of terrible, but I read it. For continuity. So welcome, to the nightmare that is Claudia and the Phantom Phone Calls.

SPOILERS AFTER THE COVER!!!

The Baby-Sitters Club #2: Claudia and the Phantom Phone Calls
Hello? The worst BSC book? It’s right here, let me give it the phone.

It starts out like all the other books that center around Claudia – she is struggling with school and comparing herself to her genius sister.

The thing about homework is that it is just so boring I can barely concentrate on it. And it’s useless. Who cares whether > means greater than or less than, or what X equals?

I don’t know, Claudia, anyone who wants to solve almost any practical problem ever? If one of your dumb baby-sitting charges is supposed to have twelve blocks in his toy chest, but he only has five, how many blocks has he eaten? That’s what X equals.

If Claudia didn’t spend so much time thinking about how schoolwork is boring, she could probably just learn the material and move on. Or she has a learning disability, and then it’s the school that is failing her. However, I haven’t read anything that indicates a learning disability, just laziness on Claude’s part.

But this isn’t Rereading My Childhood While I Complain About Claudia Kishi, Don’t @ Me, Mary Anne is the Best and Everyone Should Know That. I have to move on.

Then, like every book, Ann M. Martin feels the need to tell me that Claudia is Japanese and her grandmother, Mimi, has an accent, but her parents don’t. Does the accent come up later? No, but it seems to be Mimi’s only defining trait. Claudia starts to paint her and asks the very open-ended question, “Tell me about when you were a little girl in Japan.” Just, like, anything, Claudia? Is Mimi like Mary Lou Henner? “When I was eight, on December 3rd, I ate miso soup and a biscuit for breakfast. Then I bathed for 24 minutes.”

Then she goes into her clothes for the day, and they are, as usual, interesting.

I like bright colors and big patterns and funny touches, such as earring made from feathers. Maybe this is because I’m an artist. I don’t know. Today, for instance, I’m wearing purple pants that stop just below my knees and are held up with suspenders, white tights with clocks on them, a purple-plaid shirt with a matching hat, my high-top sneakers, and lobster earrings. Clothes like these are my trademark.

My sister is an artist but she wouldn’t wear capris with garish tights underneath. You are just silly. Also, I don’t think a “funny touch” is a feather. That sounds more like cultural appropriation to me.

Later, Stacey calls Claudia and our resident artist talks about her crush on Trevor Sandbourne – a boy who writes poetry for the school’s literary magazine The Literary Voice. Did you know that Robert Pinsky first published “Impossible to Tell” in Stoneybrook Middle School’s The Literary Voice? Poet Trevor’s peers are an august retinue.

Chapter two starts with a problem.

Stacey, Kristy, Mary Anne, and I did get together on Saturday, but we couldn’t think of a thing for the four of us to do together. Mary Anne wasn’t allowed to ride her bike to the mall. Stacey couldn’t eat s’mores or ice cream or anything fun. (She has diabetes and has to control very carefully the amount of sugar she takes in each day.) And there was only one movie playing in town and Kristy and I had already seen it.

Okay, a few problems here. Even if Mary Anne could ride her bike to the mall, what would you do there? Just sit around like you’re doing now. Secondly, just because Stacey is diabetic doesn’t mean she can’t be around sugar. Sugar isn’t airborne. I understand that you don’t want her to feel left out, but you guys can have a camp out that just happens to have s’mores, and, for example, roasted hot dogs or something. Lastly, Stoneybrook’s movie theater only shows one movie, but their middle school has a literary magazine. Sparks, Nevada has several movie theaters that show several movies and my school didn’t even have a newspaper.

So the girls talk about random stuff instead and mention Alan Gray, a boy who has been terrorizing Kristy since she was a child. Then the conversation turns to the plot point that the “Phantom Caller” is still on the loose.

[Mary Anne] took the paper and read: “‘Phantom Caller on Rampage in Mercer.'” She cleared her throat and glaced at us. Then she began to read again. “‘The thief, whom police have nicknamed the Phantom Caller, struck again in Mercer on Tuesday night. Following the pattern of his previous burglaries, he began making phone calls, this time to the home of Thornton and Sophia Granville of 236 Witmer Court, shortly after four P.M. He never spoke, simply hanging up the phone when someone answered. The Granvilles left their home at seven-thirty to attend a meeting of the school board. When they returned at ten-fiftenn, they found all of Mrs. Granville’s jewelry missing. Nothing else had been taken, despite the fact that a considerable amount of silver, as well as Thornton Granville’s famous and very valuable coin collection were in the house.

“‘This is the sixth home that Phantom Caller has robbed in the past two weeks, and the second home in Mercery. The first four robberties occurred in New Hope.'” Mary Anne stopped reading.

Cool, Newspaper Person. Got any more information about the Granvilles’ belongings? Emergency money in a fake book on the tallest shelf in the den?

The kicker is that while Claudia was babysitting for the Marshalls, the phone rang twice and when Claudia answered it, there was silence on the other end. Stacey comes up with the idea of a code for over the phone. If they are in trouble, they call another member of BSC and ask, “Have you found my red ribbon?” I don’t know why 911 isn’t the best option, but there’s a whole code they work out. It never really pans out, as the BSC can’t remember the code later in the book. They also decide to bring the BSC record book to school every day and look over it so they know who is babysitting for whom, which proves to be a huge security issue later.

At school, Claudia stalks Trevor Sandbourne outside The Literary Voice office, Alan Gray harrases her, and she attempts to find Stacey in the lunch room, but Stacey is standing in line next to Alexander Kurtzman, “who carries a briefcase and wears a jacket and tie, and lives to obey rules.” How this kid hasn’t been murdered is beyond explanation. Claudia spends her time expressing her desire to attend the school’s Halloween Hop with Trevor.

Claudia babysits for the Newtons and someone calls but doesn’t say anything when Claudia answers. A news report says the Phantom Caller was spotted in a stolen car, but it turns out the news reported that fact too hastily (how irresponsible, this is we get crazy alt-right jerks yelling about fake news) and the Phantom Caller is still on the loose. On a different night, Claudia babysits Eleanor and Nina Marshall and she gets another phone call with no answer. She calls Stacey to help her feel better, and they chat for a while, but it doesn’t help – Claudia is still freaked out. This is harassment, plain and simple, and I emphasize this so when the perpetrator is revealed and actually rewarded, you will understand my ire.

The first handwriting chapter is Kristy at Watson’s, babysitting Karen and Andrew. Karen expresses concern over their next door neighbor actually being a witch named Morbidda Destiny. The phone rings and Kristy answers it and there is no one on the other end. Then the phone rings again.

Ring . . . Ring.

At last Kristy reached for it. She knew she had to answer it. The caller could be Watson or her mother. She picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. But she couldn’t get any words out.

“Kristy?” as the caller.

“Claudia?” she whispered back. (The caller was me!)

Ladies and gentlemen, I present the limitations on the first-person perspective because that was silly. Kristy is so scared she doesn’t want to answer the phone, so the person harassing her is also a monster. He’s actually worse, but we’ll get to that.

Stacey has the next handwriting chapter at the Johanssens. It’s mostly uneventful. There is a thunderstorm, but that’s it. Mary Anne babysits David Michael, Kristy’s little brother, and she sets up a whole set of traps straight from the Kevin McCallister School for Home Defense. This ends up comedic and enjoyable.

Then Claudia’s next door neighbors are robbed, bringing the Phantom Caller threat straight to the BSC’s front door. This prompts Mr. Spier to forbid his daughter from babysitting until the Phantom Caller is caught. That’s a little reactionary, Mr. Spier. The Phantom Caller doesn’t rob homes that had people inside, he doesn’t murder anyone, and just because there’s some crime doesn’t mean you should lock Mary Anne away like you’re in a Bonte novel. They didn’t catch the Golden State Killer for decades and people were still able to babysit – didn’t see you locking Mary Anne behind three feet of bulletproof glass. Mr. Spier is a crazy man.

We are now at our climax. Kristy and Claudia dual babysit for Jamie Newton and his cousin, one of whom hates girls, including girl babysitters. He is a future politician.

The same things happen. Phone calls, no answer. However, this time, Kristy sees someone skulking outside the house. Claudia decides to call the police. The police arrive and catch the person skulker. (The skulked? The skulkee? Asshole. We’ll just go with Asshole.)

It’s fucking Alan Gray. And then we get this bullshit.

Son,” said Officer Stanton in a more kindly voice, “what did you want to ask her?”

Alan mummbled something that nobody understood.

“What, Alan?” asked Kristy, sounding nearly civil.

“I wanted to know if you’d go to the Halloween Hop with me.”

If I were Kristy, my eyeballs would have fallen out of my head along about then. But Kristy just said, “Oh, gosh, is that all? Of course I’ll go with you . . . Thanks.”

Lemme get this straight, Kristy. This boy, who makes fun of you, steals your homework as well as your lunch, and treats your friends like shit; stalks the house of the children you’re supposed to be watching over; scares the shit out of you so much so that you call the police; then the police have to chase him down in the rhododendrons, only to have him ask you out and you actually say, “Sure and thanks.” Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of message is that to young girls? If he scares you, it’s okay, he likes you. You know how someone is worth your time? They don’t fucking scare you! That’s how you know. Alan Gray should be arrested. Moreover, you know he’s definitely white because if he were black, he would have been shot on the spot. What sexist, patriarchal, white nonsense is this?

And you know who keeps calling Claudia and hanging up? Trevor Sandbourne. He’s trying to ask Claudia out. While not as egregious as Alan Gray stalking, Trevor’s behavior is still bad, but all Claudia can focus on is the Halloween Hop. Kristy is stalked but all she can focus on is that a boy likes her. She doesn’t even get angry that Alan Gray has been stealing the BSC record book to find where all the babysitters are on any given night and sharing that information with people (Trevor). This is a flagrant privacy violation.

There is some resolution to the relationship between Claudia and Janine, but it’s pointless, especially after the infuriating conclusion of this book.

This book should be banished to the edges of young adult literature and purged from every BSC collection. It has the worst message for young, impressionable girl readers: if a boy is mean to you, scares you, and doesn’t respect your privacy, he likes you and you should reward him by going to a dance with him.

Fuck this book. It’s easily the worst one. I’d prefer the babysitters being stalked by the actual Phantom Caller.

Speaking of whom, The Phantom Caller gets caught, and Mary Anne is allowed to babysit again, but more on the patriarchal nature of Mr. Spier later. My blood pressure is high enough as it is.

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #10: Why Would You Do That?

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

This week is a short one, starting with the return of Abby and Mallory from Sea City.

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I  have not won a prize. Also, why am I not surprised that Claire would enjoy skinny dipping? The most annoying Pike would enjoy calling attention to herself in the most inappropriate way.

Mallory chimes in, spilling the beans on Abby’s great babysitting.

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Abby, honey, why did you think it was a good idea to give a foot long hot dog to a six-year-old? What good could come of it? How did you become a babysitter? Kristy, is there some kind of screening process?

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #9: Kristy’s Birthday

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

Oh, boy, was it a busy week for the BSC! It started with Jessi congratulating Claudia on her problem-solving skills.

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I still think Claudia’s handling is going to produce dubious results. Maybe Sean just told her that the tuba painting worked so the other babysitters would stop trying (and failing) to solve his problem. Also, he was worried that Claudia might splatter paint on the rest of his property if he didn’t say she solved his problem.

Jessi continued in the journal by gossiping about Abby and Stacey.

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While that sounds nice and all, that’s not your story to tell, Jessi. And how the fuck do these 13-year-olds keep picking up dudes wherever they go? And how old are these bodysurfing boys? I have half a mind to call your parents and tell them about your nightly activities.

Meanwhile, it’s Kristy’s birthday soon and she’s excited about her softball camp.

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How could Watson get “a real major league player to stop by” exactly? Is he an agent? Big baseball agency in Stoneybrook, huh? Does he really want a baseball player who is half steroids to visit his young stepdaughter and her friends?

Then Mary Anne says something still relatable.

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Brad Pitt, Keanu Reeves, and Sandra Bullock are still relevant actors, even twenty years later.

I know what I would say to a celebrity if I met them. Nothing. I would say nothing. Because that’s what I said when I met Paula Poundstone after a show she did in Carson City. My sister asked her for an autograph and I just stood there with a big dumb grin on my face and said nothing.

We wrap up this week with Kristy’s birthday.

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I can believe that Claudia made a great cake.

Also, on a side note, these things are moving to Wednesday. Some stuff happened at school (*cough*class canceled on Wednesday*cough*I had to sign up for a different class*cough*) and now Tuesday is the most convenient day to write these. Sorry again.

Rereading My Childhood – Goosebumps: Stay Out of the Basement!

My parents are not anti-vaxxers because they’re responsible parents. My sister and I are current with all our shots, no matter how hard it was to get us to sit down and actually take the damn shot. We used to cry and cling to our parents and engage in futile begging, but our tenacious parents still forced us to receive our shots. After it was all done, the pain a distant memory, we got a prize from the hospital.

That’s where I saw it – a green hand wrapped around a door. Leaves and vines grew around the hand as if something escaped the confines of the basement and was now poised to take over the upstairs. Goosebumps: Stay Out of the Basement by R. L. Stine sat on the highest shelf, most of which featured boys with dogs or girls with dolls. Maybe one or two with arm-crossed children rolling their eyes as their apron-clad mother held a rolling pin and chastised them. The hand stood out. The hand grabbed my attention. The hand scared me, but I needed to know what was happening.

Rereading this as an adult, I’m happy this one was my first Goosebumps book. My copy has the new cover that fails to live up to the original, but I’m still happy I own this scary book that holds up as fine children’s horror.

SPOILERS AFTER THE COVER!!!

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I realize this is the new cover, but Goodwill only has so many old covers.

Casey and Margaret Brewer are tired of their father’s excuses. They want to play Frisbee with him, but he’s always busy. And he’s been working every day since he moved his family out to California, a place that Margaret doesn’t like because it’s “the middle of winter; and there isn’t a cloud in the sky, and Casey and I are out in jeans and T-shirts as if it were the middle of summer.” Oh no, how terrible it must be to have temperate weather in the second-best state in the union. (First is Nevada – don’t @ me.)

Margaret thinks that Mr. Martinez, their father’s boss, fired their father for some experiments that went “wrong.” She gets curious and encourages Casey to come with her to find out what their father is doing deep in the basement. When they halfway down the basement stairs, their father appears.

He glared up at them angrily, his skin strangely green under the flourescent light fixture. He was holding his right hand, drops of red blood falling onto his white lab coat.

Stay out of the basement!” he bellowed, in a voice they’d never heard before.

Both kids shrank back, surprised to hear their father scream like that. He was usually so mild and soft-spoken.

Stay out of the basement,” he repeated, holding his bleeding hand. “Don’t ever come down here – I’m warning you.”

I think the kids just slink away because the next chapter starts with Mrs. Brewer leaving to help care for her sister for a few days. She says she’s no worried about the kids, but is worried about Mr. Brewer, particularly that he will become so engrossed in his work that he won’t eat. The man himself appears, his hand bandaged despite it being a few weeks after he yelled at them. He takes their mother to the airport as Margaret’s friend Diane arrives for some adult-free childhood banter.

Diane is also the one who dares Margaret to go into the basement, because what’s a Goosebumps book without some kids daring each other to do some stupid shit. I remember being a kid. We always dared each other to do stupid shit. It’s the most realistic thing in the series.

In the basement, they find a “rain forest.” It’s so hot and humid that Casey decides to take off his shirt and drop it on the floor, just like an actual kid. That’s when they notice a tall treelike plant actually breathing. Casey touches it and he goes into convulsions!

Of course, it’s just a prank. At least the fake out is at the end of chapter three when I’m already invested, instead of the first chapter. The children think the plants are moving and they decide to go back upstairs. They think that their father will never know they were down there, but Casey remembers that he left his t-shirt on the floor.

Casey goes back into the basement to retrieve his shirt, but their father comes home. Margaret is standing at the top of the stairs, urging her brother to return before their father walks through the door. He grabs his shirt but some tendrils grab him. It’s not a trick. Actual tendrils grab Casey. They wrestle free, but not before their father catches them.

They insist they didn’t touch anything and while their father is disappointed, he is not stark-raving mad. They ask their father about the weird plants, but he refuses to explain their bizarre appearance and behavior to them. The next morning, Margaret finds a lock installed on the basement door.

Dr. Brewer is working so hard to impress his boss, Mr. Martinez, and prove that the university was wrong to fire Dr. Brewer. However, Margaret clings to her idea that something is askew, especially since she sees his research as putting his career ahead of his children, something he hasn’t done before. Her suspicions are exacerbated when she sees him devour something from a bag “greedily” and stash it under the sink before returning to the basement.

When she was sure he had gone downstairs, Margaret walked eagerly into the kitchen. She had to know whather father had been eating so greedily, so hungrily.

She pulled open the sink cabinet, reached into the trash, and pulled out the crinkled-up bag.

Then she gasped aloud asher eyes ran over the label.

Her father, she saw, had been devouring plant food.

Oh, shit, Margaret! The call is coming from inside the house! Get out of there!

She tries to confide in Casey her findings, but, like every shitty man, he doesn’t take her concerns seriously. There are more frustrating scenes wherein others excuse Dr. Brewer’s neglect as something he’s doing for the sake of his career while dismissing Margaret. This whole book is like a metaphor for women’s struggles. A young woman is supposed to just accept a man’s egregious behavior for the sake of his own interests even to her detriment. I feel ya, Margaret. We cuz.

While Margaret is growing up with a distant father, Dr. Brewer is growing green hair. He is also skulking around the house and scaring his daughter and is sleeping in a bed that is covered in earthworms and wet, black clumps of dirt. Finally, he tries to feed his children a strange substance bearing a resemblance to dirt. This is the straw that breaks Casey’s back, so to speak. He is finally curious enough to investigate the basement with Margaret.

They get their opportunity when Dr. Brewer leaves. In the basement, they find a jacket belonging to Mr. Martinez. They come to the conclusion that plants may have eaten the big boss man (the character in the book, not the wrestler), but their father insists Mr. Martinez just got hot and left his jacket. A few days later, they also discover Mr. Martinez’s shoes and pants, hurting their father’s theory that he just got hot. You don’t just take off your pants in someone else’s house, even the house of your subordinate.

During another excursion into the basement (and after some heavy lock destruction), they peer deeper into the experimental jungle.

She took a deep breath and held it. Then, ignoring the moans, the signs, the green arms reaching out to her, the hideous green-tomato faces, she plunged through the plants to the back of the closet.

“Dad!” she cried.

Her father was lying on the floor, his hands and feet tied tightly with plant tendrils, his mouth gagged by a wide strip of elastic tape.

“It can’t be Dad!” Casey said, still holding her by the shoulders. “Dad is at the airport – remember?”

She reached downand tugged at the elastic tape until she managed to get it off.

“Kids – I’m so glad to see you,” Dr. Brewer said. “Quick! Untie me.”

“How did you get in here?” Casey demanded, standing above him, hands on his hips, staring down at him suspicisously. “We saw you leave for the airport.”

“That wasn’t me,” Dr. Brewer said. “I’ve been locked in here for days.”

“Huh?” Casey cried.

“But we saw you-” Margaret started.

“It wasn’t me. It’s a plant,” Dr. Brewer said. “It’s a plant copy of me.”

Holy shit! It’s a plant! Metaphorically and literally! The story continues with a classic, “I’m your real father! Shoot him!” “No, shoot him! He’s the impostor!” only with a little girl holding an ax, which is my new aesthetic.

Margaret figures out who her real father is when she stabs the father from the basement in the arm. He bleeds red blood, so she hands him the ax. Then her real father cleaves the impostor in two! Take it back. A father who was held captive by a sentient plant cutting his captor in twain with an ax from his daughter is my new aesthetic.

In the end, the Brewers destroy the plants and return the equipment to the university, but R. L. Stine isn’t finished.

It’s so peaceful now, [Margaret] thought happily.

So peaceful here. And so beautiful.

The smile faded from her face when she heard the whisper at her feet. “Margaret.”

She looked down to see a small yellow flower nudging her ankle.

“Margaret,” the flower whispered, “help me. Please – help me. I’m your father. Really! I’m your real father.”

Fucking perfect. This book was perfect.

I’m happy this was my first Goosebumps book. I’m happy this was the book I chose from all the other books on that bookshelf at the doctor’s office. Thank you to whoever put that book on that shelf. This book started my lifelong love of all things scary and creepy. I’m even happier that this book holds up. I like the punniness. I like Margaret. I like the mystery. Everything about this book is perfect.

Stay Out of the Basement was the second book of the Goosebumps series and, especially with Welcome to Dead House as the first, I can see why this series is revered in the Pantheon of Young Adult Fiction, exactly where it should be.

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #8: A Simple Fix

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

I got a letter from Jessi this week!

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The form asked what my nickname was and I assumed it was for logging in purposes. I don’t really have a nickname. My mother calls me “Kido” and my Filipino nieces and nephews call me “Tita Kido.” Literally everyone else in the world calls me “Amy.” Maybe Jessi is being sarcastic. “That’s a good one in that it’s not a nickname at all.” Jessi isn’t normally sarcastic, but maybe she wants to haze the newest member of the BSC.

Meanwhile, Claudia solved Shawn Addison’s tuba issue (tubissue).

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Really? That’s it? You just had to paint some stuff on his tuba? What about his parents? Like, musical instruments are expensive. I don’t know if they’d appreciate their very expensive investment becoming the art project of a preteen.

Maybe I’m the wrong one because it’s a hit with Jessi.

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By the way, A Year With the BSC is moving to Thursdays so I can write these on Wednesdays. Thanks!

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #7: How, Mary Anne, How?

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

The BSC is finished talking about summer camp and are focused on Abby and Stacey’s trip to Sea City with the Pikes.

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It’s troubling that Abby thinks there’s a possibility the BSC won’t miss her. She’s the newest member so she might be unsure of her position in the club.

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Dawn just came back from California, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to do another trip, even if it’s just a car ride and not a cross-country plane ride. I don’t blame her.

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Mary Anne is nice. She’s the nicest member of the BSC. That’s sweet advice, Mary Anne, but what do I do when my friend starts spouting fundamentalist dogma she got from our favorite bigot and crazy man the 45th president? How do we evolve as humans if we don’t hold each other accountable? How, Mary Anne, how? Because I genuinely don’t know and I am open to suggestions from preteens.