Despite my constant attempts to do so, I cannot keep a journal or a diary. It starts the same way. A new, flawless journal with a beautiful blue flower on the cover and a silver-foiled edge. Each day dated and lined. Two weeks of consistent writing. Then the steep drop-off. Days go by without anything noteworthy. I think I can’t use the pages for different days because it’s not the correct date. The diary goes unused. I pull it apart and use the pages for notes.
Blogs are the same way for me. I just don’t think that my life is particularly interesting. This is the longest I’ve been able to do anything blog or writing wise semi-consistently, and, even then, it hasn’t been that consistent.
Mallory Pike says there’s a difference between a journal and a diary. A diary is a daily log of events. A journal is a random log of random thoughts. This definition of a journal is instantly more appealing to me, but then what would I do with my stacks and stacks of pretty note paper? A journal would be a large notepad for me, filled with the exact words I’m going to say to the lady on the phone when I order refills on my prescriptions and possible responses to questions.
Mallory Pike’s mother wants to welcome the McGills back to Stoneybrook, so she sends her oldest over with a casserole, a staple of these books and everyone’s childhood except mine. Stacey and her mother are more than happy to receive the casserole, as all they have been eating is take-out. They have been living my daily existence.
Claudia has been helping Stacey unpack and today is no different. At the request of Ms. McGill, they take some extra moving boxes into the attic. There, they find a bunch of crap left behind, including a trunk. Stacey gives Mallory the trunk and Mallory pays the triplets to lug the thing to her room.
It’s a beautiful antique trunk and while Mallory wants to get it open, she would prefer to do it without the demolition team from Property Brothers. Unfortunately, Mallory does not possess the skills necessary, so it’ll be a while before we can get to the mystery diary.
Meanwhile, Buddy Barrett is having trouble reading. He should be tested for dyslexia. He’s eight-years-old and he can’t read Green Eggs and Ham. Instead, Buddy’s mother hires Mallory, who is not a qualified specialist. She is a sixth-grader who is currently prying open a trunk out of frustration.
After all that talk about not wanting to destroy the trunk, Mallory relents and allows the triplets to smash the lock with a hammer. They find clothes and, finally, the titular mystery diary.I sat on the edge of my bed and opened the diary. The first page read, “This is my book, by Sophie. And this is a year in my life – 1894.”
Well, the mystery diary belongs to Sophie! Sherlock Pike, your powers of deduction are impeccable!
Mallory reads Sophie’s diary until her first tutoring session with Buddy. He came home with flashcards from his teacher, whom he hates. Mallory goes over the flashcards with him and Buddy is annoyed and frustrated the whole time. She rewards him with five minutes to play with his generic, nondescript video game. Just enough time to get to the loading screen. On the way home, Mallory wonders if there’s a better way to teach reading.
Back home, Mallory dives deeper into the diary and we finally get a mystery. Basically, Sophie’s grandfather didn’t like his daughter’s no-good husband, Jared, who is also Sophie’s father. After Sophie’s mother dies in childbirth, Sophie’s grandfather disowned the family and blamed Jared for the theft of her mother’s portrait. Sophie is determined to clear her father’s name and find the portrait or else she’ll haunt Stacey’s house. The mystery is not so much about the diary, but the starter quest is in the diary itself.
Meanwhile, Kristy baby-sits for her siblings, including Emily Michelle, her adopted sister from Vietnam. The baby doesn’t do much, but I mention her only because Kristy claims that orphanages in Vietnam neglect the children, which is a rotten thing to conjecture. It already bothers me that they changed Emily Michelle’s name and this unfounded dig at Vietnam is gross and unacceptable. Anyway, not much happens, but the Thomas/Brewer clan ventures upstairs to look for treasures, only to find clothes as outdated as their beliefs.
At the BSC meeting, Mallory goes over everyone’s clothes. Kristy, Mary Anne, Jessi, and Stacey aren’t wearing anything particularly egregious, but Mallory is concerned about patterns potentially clashing.
This episode of “What’s Claudia Wearing?” is uneventful.Claud herself was wearing jeans, a plain white blouse, a pink sweater, white socks, and loafers. She said she’s gone back to the fifties for the day.
However, this is Mallory’s outfit:I was wearing boring old jeans, but a top that I liked a lot – a big white long-sleeved T-shirt that said I ❤️ KIDS across the front.
Mallory, honey, I don’t care if they gave you a free shirt, don’t hang out at CPAC.
Finally, Dawn is wearing pants and a sweatshirt. That’s it. That’s all.
Oh, did I forget to mention the “small straw hat?”
I insist that all Dawn cosplay must include this $1.50 hat from Party City.
They never talk about the outfits or the little hat for the rest of the book, but they do continue their conversation about the mystery in the diary. Dawn posits that Sophie’s grandfather is Old Man Hickory, the curmudgeon from The Baby-Sitters Club #17: Mary Anne’s Bad-Luck Mystery, but that would imply that everyone in Stoneybrook is connected to this old guy who didn’t want to leave his house. Jessi suggests that Sophie stole the painting, which would mean that Sophie is lying in her own diary. The BSC ends the meeting pretty damn stoked about this missing painting.
Mallory arrives at the Barretts for Buddy’s tutoring session. This time, she gives him some comic books, much to Buddy’s excitement.Maybe Mrs. Barrett didn’t let her kids read comics. Some parents didn’t, and I can understand why. In our house we’re allowed to read comics, but only as long as we read books, too. Mom and Dad said that was fair since they read some pretty junky magazines as well as good books. But not all parents feel that way.
What’s wrong with comic books? I can think of at least five comic books off the top of my head that I would consider literary masterpieces, as well as five actual books that have no literary merit. Oh yeah, we can’t have people reading comic books like Maus by Art Spiegelman because to them, it’s schlock. Reagan’s America, everyone, where kids can’t wear palm tree earrings and green hair, and God forbid someone catches them reading Calvin & Hobbes.
Anyway, Buddy and Mallory read Archie together. Archie? Like, Riverdale? And Jughead?
Then they make comics and Mallory helps him with his spelling. Buddy has a good time and Mallory is proud of herself.
The BSC wants to solve the mystery of the diary, so they are going to do the next logical step – hold a seance. Kristy insists on being the “channeler” and she shows up at Stacey’s house dressed as if she were one of the Romani people. Martin doesn’t use the word “Romani,” but a slur. You know which one.
The girls do their little seance and Kristy pretends to be Sophie so she can tell the girls that a seance is a bad idea. They all laugh and laugh. This scene could have been cut out and nothing would change. They used a culture as a costume for nothing.
Stacey sits for Charlotte, who tells her some convoluted story about a girl who finds puppies in the forest and it’s Christmas. It’s all for her to say that things may not be what they seem. It doesn’t really help solve the mystery, but I guess there’s always a scene where the detective looks furtive and says, “There’s something we’re missing. Some piece of the puzzle that has yet to be found. We must look at this from a different angle.” And then he ponders at a tree, or flips over a card, or puts a pipe in his mouth, depending on when the movie was made and if it takes place in Monte Carlo.
During Mallory’s next session with Buddy, she shows him the diary. He reads for a while and then rummages through the rest of the trunk. Buried at the bottom, is another piece of paper – the key to the mystery.
Well, not really a key. It’s a confession from Sophie’s grandfather and it just says what happened. Basically, Dawn was correct. Old Man Hickory was Sophie’s grandfather. After his daughter died, he got big sads from looking at her portrait, so he commissioned some traveling painter to paint over it. Then when people asked about the painting, he framed his no-good son-in-law, regardless of the consequences for his grandchild.
Stacey finds another painting in the attic and Stacey’s mom, who’s got it going on (a reference that’s good in perpetuity), takes it to Stamford to restore the original painting. Stacey’s mom is able to just buy a huge house in suburban Connecticut without a job and they still have leftover money for painting restoration. White people in the ‘80s had it made.
In the end, Buddy performs a magic trick for Mallory and his family because Mallory cured his dyslexia, I guess.
Buddy and Mallory claim that Buddy solved the mystery, but finding a confession at the bottom of the trunk isn’t really solving a mystery. It would be like a video game quest giver asking you to find some herbs and they’re on the table next to them. No one pieced together clues, no one noticed something interesting, no one lent their expertise to the situation. Mallory should have just dumped out the rest of the contents of the trunk at the beginning and we could have gone home early for the day.
Also, Buddy definitely has a reading disability of some kind. Either Martin didn’t intend for his journey to revolve around his obvious disability because Boomers deny the existence of neurodivergent people, or she just unloaded the responsibility of a professional onto an 11-year-old with a horse obsession. I’ll give Martin the benefit of the doubt. While Mallory gives Buddy an avenue to the wonderful world of reading, hopefully he’ll go to a professional for real assistance.
Rereading My Childhood is written by me – Amy A. Cowan. For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written and to subscribe to my Substack or YouTube, go toRereadingMyChildhood.com. To listen to the official podcast, visit the website or search for “Rereading My Childhood” in your favorite podcast app. For more information about me, visitAmyACowan.com.
My whole life my father complained that Reno is getting “too big.” My father would lament as he stared toward Mount Rose, “You used to be able to see the hills and now you just see houses.” He wasn’t wrong. I remember the sagebrush covered land that cradled our city gradually turning into housing developments with curved, inefficient roads.
Unlike my father, I welcomed the change. As far as I was concerned, the bigger Reno got, the better. Better bands came through – bands I cared about. Not just the Boomer nostalgia bands who performed on the casino circuit. Stores weren’t relegated to the universal suburban style of Mervyns – I might be able to get some alternative clothing (if it came in my size, which was rare, but that’s for another time). Reno was growing, and so were my expectations of what a city should have and provide.
To this day, I have no desire to move to a city with a population smaller than the Reno metropolitan-ish area. I will only move up, not down. I don’t care if the cost of living is exorbitant – it’s exorbitant everywhere. A smaller town would have to be pretty damn special or cheap to get me to move there.
Stacey has to make a big decision in the next BSC book – whether to continue her existence in New York City, with its culture and Starlight Express shows, or move back to Stoneybrook, with its friends, child pageants, and theaters that only show one movie at a time.
Even though she moved away from the BSC, Stacey is still baby-sitting. You can take the baby-sitter out of the BSC, but you can’t take the BSC out of the baby-sitter! I’m surprised Martin didn’t use this. Anyway, Stacey is baby-sitting for two of her favorite charges while she thinks about her parents’ constant fighting, which is never a good sign. When she returns home, she finds her parents fighting again. It seems that Mrs. McGill gets bored throughout the day because Mr. McGill is never home and so Mrs. McGill goes shopping.
And it’s not regular shopping. Mrs. McGill spent $1568 at Tiffany’s, which is $3555 today. I cannot fathom spending that much at one store. My partner and I took a week-long vacation for about a thousand dollars and we thought that was extravagant. Either the McGills are rich or drowning in credit card debt.
And what is Mr. McGill’s issue? What is his fatal flaw to rival a shopping addiction? He works too much. So what? Everyone I know works over forty hours a week and has at least two side hustles. Geez, the ‘80s were different. You could live in one of the most expensive cities in the world, have only one working parent, and a $1568 shopping trip wouldn’t cripple you for years.
Part of me thinks that Mr. McGill should be having an affair, because working too much vs. spending budget-shattering amounts of money isn’t equal. I wouldn’t leave someone for working too much, but I would leave someone for spending a nice vacation’s worth of money at a store with blood diamonds.
Instead of coming home, Stacey goes to her best-friend’s house. Laine Cummings provides a shoulder to cry on while Stacey worries if her parents still love each other. Stacey also calls the BSC during one of their meetings. Each member gets to chat with her. Everyone tries to reassure her, but it’s no use. When Stacey finally goes home, her parents sit her down and deliver the bad news.
They are getting a divorce. They’ve been to a marriage counselor and there’s no salvaging the relationship. Mr. McGill says that they have too many differences. Stacey goes to her room and listens to her “loudest tape.” I imagine GWAR, but I don’t know if Martin is a big fan of thrash metal.
The next day, instead of speaking to her parents, Stacey becomes a dude with a podcast.
What was wrong with parents these days? Why couldn’t they get married and stay married like parents did in olden times? Whatever happened to commitment? What happened to “forever”? To “till death do us part”? Really, someone ought to rewrite the wedding vows so that the bride and groom say, “Till divorce do us part.”
People in “olden times” stayed together because a woman wasn’t allowed to have a credit card without her husband to co-sign, Stacey. Is that what you want? You want your whole identity to be tied to a man, regardless of his worthiness? I know you’re going through something, Stacey, but don’t entertain the idea that if a fifteen-year-old is forced into a marriage, they should just tough it out for the rest of their lives.
During school, Stacey avoids her friends. After school, she talks to the local homeless lady until Stacey goes home. When she reaches her door, there’s a sign that says, “DO NOT ENTER. GO BACK TO THE LIVING ROOM AND TALK TO YOUR PARENTS.” Stacey actually listens to the sign instead of taking the sign down and going into her room anyway. It’s a piece of paper. Not a lock. Ignore it.
She does not ignore it and speaks with her parents. They tell her that they’re both going to be finding new places to live. That means that Stacey has to decide which parent she wants to live with and how to divide her time. Her dad is going to stay in New York City while her mother moves back to Stoneybrook.
Stacey calls Laine, who tells her to stay because it’ll be easier. Then she calls Claudia, who tells her to move back to Stoneybrook. Finally, she calls Dawn, whose parents recently divorced.
“The thing about divorce,” she told me, “is waiting. You have to wait for an awful lot – for decisions, lawyers, even movers.” (I giggled.) “The best way to look at the situation is to realize that the worst part is over. You know your parents are splitting up. Now it’s just a matter of dealing with each new step that comes along.”
Dawn’s intelligence is underrated. However, despite the nice, practical advice that boils down to, “Work on what you have control over,” Stacey doesn’t really listen to it. She springs into action – she’s going to rekindle her parents’ relationship. She tells us that her favorite babysitting charges don’t just stare at the TV all day – like it’s a bad thing to watch TV. Then she takes her ques from the very device she derided while trying to get her parents back together, including half-assed shenanigans that would feel appropriate for any of the Brady Bunch.
She attempts to prepare a romantic dinner at home, but Mr. McGill doesn’t come home so Stacey and her mother eat the food. She tries the dinner thing again but at a restaurant this time. That doesn’t work either – both of her parents have seen The Parent Trap, a movie from the ‘60s that keeps popping up in these books.
One Saturday morning, Mrs. McGill invites Stacey to go house hunting in Stoneybrook. Also, Claudia tags along, because who wouldn’t want to look at vacant houses? A psychopath, that’s who. If I could get away with it, I’d go to open houses all over the tri-city area every weekend. However, in order to buy a house now, you have to be a Boomer looking for a home for their designer pony, a trust fund kid whose parents are willing to put the down payment on a house, or an internet company that buys “ugly houses.” There’s no way I’d pass for any of those, so the realtors would never let me within fifty feet of any house with a For Sale sign in the yard.
I’m also clearly a sucker because Stacey and her mother see several houses they can afford, but they find problems in each one. To which I’d say, hey, I don’t care what the problem is, if you can afford a house, and you don’t already have another one, take it. You can fix problems. In the end, the only house that is really appealing to Stacey and her mother is a house right behind the Pike residence.
That night, Claudia hosts a slumber party with the rest of the BSC and Stacey. The slumber party goes well, and Stacey says that conversations with the BSC are natural – something she is missing in New York.
“What did Jackie do tonight?” I couldn’t resist asking.
“Squirted his hot dog across the kitchen the second he bit into it-” Kristy began, grinning.
“He bit into the kitchen?” said Dawn.
“No, the hot dog!”
“The hot dog bit into the kitchen?”
We all started laughing.
“Natural” is a word that could describe that interaction, but does it?
The girls paint each other’s nails, then they make fun of an annoying kid, and then coo over pictures of Emily Michelle. The sleepover ends with Claudia pleading with Stacey to stay in Stoneybrook.
Back in New York, Mr. McGill has found an apartment on the East Side, just steps away from Bloomingdale’s. He refers to it as his “new pad.” He’s definitely a divorced dad. He just needs a haircut he spent too much on, a ridiculous vehicle, and an aura of desperation and the transformation will be complete.
Stacey makes a pros and cons list to determine where she will live. In the end, the BSC makes all the difference, and she decides that she is going to live with her mother in Stoneybrook. Her mother buys the house behind the Pikes.
There’s some packing and Stacey has to tell Laine about her decision. Laine is disappointed, but she understands Stacey’s position. Laine goes on to treat the McGills to a breakfast that, according to Stacey, only exists in New York – bagels, lox, cream cheese and orange juice. Because you can’t find those things anywhere else. Nope. You can’t find bagels and salmon on the west coast, apparently. It’s not like I get that exact order at a local bagel place I like.
Stacey’s regular baby-sitting charges (the ones who don’t watch TV) come over and give her gifts in the form of drawings. Didn’t Stacey already get a drawing from her baby-sitting charges when she left Stoneybrook? One in the form of a giant map? What happened to it? (Link that story) Finally, it’s time to start the drive back to Stoneybrook.
The BSC is waiting for her on the lawn, as well as the usual kids. There’s a banner that reads, “WE KNEW YOU’D BE BACK, STACEY!” It gives off “you’ll never escape us” vibes, but Stacey thinks it’s great. There is hugging. We also get a Claudia outfit.
Her hair was flowing down her back, pulled away from her face by a headband with a huge pink rose attached to it. She was wearing a long, oversized black-and-white sweater, skin-tight black leggings, pink-and-black socks, and black ballet slippers. Her jewelry was new, and I could tell she’d made it herself. You know those things about a best friend. Her necklace was a string of glazed beads that she’d probably made in her jewelry class. And from her ears dangled an alarming number of plastic charms attached to gold hoops.
The jewelry is questionable but the rest of the outfit is cute. 9/10 completely wearable.
The BSC helps Stacey unpack. There is more hugging. Claudia stays behind and they talk about the divorce. There is continued hugging.
One week later, Stacey is doing fine and Charlotte, who makes a sudden appearance in the story, is talking more and is less clingy, which means she is growing up. Take note introverts: you’ll never grow up.
Also, Stacey is back in the BSC, and Dawn relinquishes the Treasurer role to Stacey.
I can’t understand moving to a smaller town, but I can understand moving to be closer to the ones you love. Whether those loved ones are actual family or members of a club, a connection to the people around you can make a home. And with her parents’ divorce, Stacey probably needs the BSC more than before and maybe the quieter life in the suburbs would be more conducive for her trauma.
That still doesn’t mean we should go back to a time when people couldn’t divorce. You’re starting off on thin ice, Stace. I’ve got my eyes on you. Just do your baby-sitting and leave the marital relations to those of us who think women should have their own bank accounts. Without us you wouldn’t be able to do your math problems and you’d be burned as a witch the second you used the Quadratic Formula.
For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written, go to RereadingMyChildhood.com. If you’d like me to read these to you before the written version is published, listen to the podcast. Just visit the website or search for “Rereading My Childhood” in your favorite podcatcher. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my website AmyACowan.com.
I never realized it growing up, but the schools I attended were poor. I had a grounded view of television because my father drilled into me that most things on television are fake. When I saw these elaborate vacation episodes on television, where an entire cast of schoolmates go to Disneyland or some other sponsored locale, I knew that didn’t happen in real life. In real life, field trips were to the local library. Sometimes you piled into a school bus and visited the geology department at the University of Nevada, Reno, but that was only if the class was really good that month. Once in eighth grade, I went on a special field trip for a select few kids from each middle school in the area and we visited a ski resort for one day. The idea was to learn how a ski resort operates. At the end of the day, we left the ski resort. I won’t say which ski resort it was, but it recently changed its name because it had a racial slur in it. It was called that racial slur when I visited, so I had a bumper sticker with the original name proudly displayed in my locker. The early aughts were wild.
All this is to say that I never thought any school had overnight trips. That was a plot device in the TGIF lineup. A few years ago, a friend of mine told me her son was going on a field trip to Disneyland, where they were going to see how the theme park operates. I said something about having to drive that much in one day to get the kids back. She said they were staying in a hotel. I realized I had been lied to. Overnight field trips do exist! Just not for the schools I attended.
The BSC is going on an overnight field trip to a ski lodge that does not contain a racial slur in it. I was jealous! How come these kids get to hang out overnight in a beautiful lodge just because they were born in a more affluent zip code? Then I remembered who I was in the seventh grade and how my classmates acted both toward me and everyone around them. It seems I lucked out.
So far, the Super Specials have shared two things: each chapter has a BSC member it focuses on and they all have a central conceit to facilitate the compiling of the stories. In Baby-sitters’ on Board, Kristy is collecting the stories for a scrapbook. In Baby-sitters’ Summer Vacation, Stacey wants to take some memories back with her to New York. This one is no different. This time, Mary Anne’s boyfriend Logan is not on the school trip. Instead, he is in Aruba with his family. Mary Anne wants to collect stories so he knows what happened on the trip. It’s a lot of work for such a disappointing boyfriend.
Anyway, this is an annual field trip for Stoneybrook Middle School and is mandatory unless you have a good excuse like your family wants to go to Aruba. For me, mandatory attendance usually meant that the school couldn’t get kids to show up otherwise. You’d think kids would want to get away from their parents and have a fun trip to a ski lodge, so I wonder what happened in the past. Or Stoneybrook Middle School uses this trip as a way to price gouge the rich parents and exploit the poor parents. Or Stoneybrook’s Stepfordian visage is breaking away and the seedy underground is showing again with money laundering.
While the school counts its money, the annual ski trip to Leicester Lodge in Hooksett Crossing, Vermont (that’s a pretty great town name) comes with several activities for the kids. The most important is a contest wherein the kids are divided into two groups – Red and Blue. The school clearly didn’t spend any money on name creation. Also, the kids can’t just have a week at a resort to learn how it works or to expose them to winter sports or the history of Vermont. No. We need the kids to compete against each other. We need to train them so they can get used to arbitrary competition so they’ll buy sports merchandise and have a strange attachment to a location (America) and think that other countries are shitholes (other places).
Mary Anne
Oh no! The trip might be canceled before it’s even begun! There’s a big storm coming in! Oh, wait. Don’t worry about it. A paragraph later, the vice-principal confirms that the trip is still on.
As the students of Stoneybrook Middle School pile onto several school buses, Kristy and Claudia, who are on the Blue and Red teams respectively, bicker about who is going to win the competition. They received their color assignments two minutes ago and they’re already strangely attached to their color. Kristy is the team leader for Blue, so I kind of understand why she’s so attached. Claudia’s attachment, however, is a mystery.
Mary Anne bids farewell to Connecticut and hello to Vermont as the buses pull away.
Stacey
Unlike Camp Problematic Name, Leicester Lodge is aware of dietary needs, so Stacey is already at ease. Without any special extra credit jobs, Stacey is looking forward to a fun week as she sets up some of the major conflicts in this book.
Dawn, Mal, and I were the only club members without extra-credit roles in the Winter Carnival. Mary Anne was going to be the historian, Kristy was going to run the war, Claud was going to judge the snow sculptures, and Jessi was in charge of Talent Night. That meant organizing a whole talent show, helping the kids with their acts, arranging for rehearsals, and more. This year was the first time the role had been given to a sixth-grader, but we all knew Jessi could handle it.
With that out of the way, Stacey can focus on the ride. The boys are annoying everyone by singing “John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt,” which is almost quaint. When I was in the seventh grade, the boys would annoy us by telling us they could smell our vaginas and then ask if our boobs hit our faces when we ran. I would have preferred the singing, honestly.
Then the driver almost hits a deer and everyone screams.
Dawn
They arrive at the lodge and find a whole fleet of buses outside. Stoneybrook Middle isn’t the only school at the lodge.
“Three other groups of kids will be here this week,” she told us. “One is the eighth-graders from a junior high in northern Vermont, another is the seven- and eighth-graders from a middle school in New Hampshire, and we’re still expecting a group of elementary school children from Maine.”
The students’ bunk arrangements are separated by grade, leaving Mallory and Jessi by themselves. Now they’ll have to cultivate their own personalities outside of the other five members of the BSC. Just kidding again. They figure out a way to stay with the rest of the BSC. We’ll get to that.
There’s a bunch of bunk bed talk. Who is sleeping with whom? Who is on the top? Who is on the bottom? Kristy has to bunk with Ashley Wyeth, a girl who keeps popping up even though I thought we were done with her onerous behavior. But soon, none of it will matter. Again, we’ll get to that.
Just as the students gather in the huge common room, two adults stumble into the lodge and they’re DEAD!
Not really, but one does have a fractured arm and the other’s leg is broken.
Kristy
The two adults are teachers from Conway Cove Elementary School and they were in an accident. They braved the storm to reach the cabin and get help for the students who were left behind on the bus.
While they wait for an ambulance, the school administrators and the hotel proprietors, the Georges, spring into mild action. There are children who need help! Of course, Kristy volunteers the expert services of the BSC. The teachers thank Kristy for her willingness to help, but since it’s an emergency situation, the adults should take the burden to allow the students to relax in a scary situation.
Yeah, no. They accept Kristy’s help, and soon the Georges, a few teachers, and the BSC are piling into an old school bus to rescue some kids. Surprisingly, all sixteen kids are waiting in the school bus. One of the kids insists that the driver is dead. The driver is not dead.
Each of the BSC members each watch over a few kids as they all drive back to the lodge.
Claudia
The kids arrive at the lodge and they all perk up. Since the nearest hospital is thirty miles away, the lodge doctor will examine each child and any who are seriously injured will be sent to the hospital with the teachers who have broken appendages.
After dinner, the fates of the children who are not seriously injured are in limbo. Mrs. George expresses that she doesn’t want to deprive the children of their ski trip. The school held a readathon to raise money for the trip and those kids were the winners. How a readathon raises money, I have no idea, but it is completely unfair for the kids if they have to go home just because their bus driver was on bath salts while driving. There is no indication that the bus driver was on bath salts, but there’s no explanation for the accident, so I’m going to assume bath salts.
Once again, Kristy volunteers the BSC to watch over the kids. The teachers don’t want to take any responsibility, so they accept. The BSC moves into a dorm with the kids, rendering the scenes where Jessi and Mallory are separated from the rest of the BSC, as well as the bunk arrangement talk, utterly meaningless.
Mary Anne
It’s the first morning since arriving at the lodge. The BSC members help the kids get dressed and then they clamor for breakfast. The Stoneybrook P.E. teacher, Ms. Halliday, makes some announcements that don’t really affect the plot, but she does stuff later so I have to introduce her. Despite the club’s general togetherness, after breakfast, it’s a different story.
By ten o’clock in the morning, I found myself pretty much on my own. Kristy, Claud, Dawn, and Stacey had hit the slopes, Mallory was off doing something with her secret journal project, and Jessi had volunteered to entertain Pinky for the day, since Pinky was under doctor’s orders to stay inside with her foot up.
Mary Anne visits the lodge’s library. Her assignment: research the history of the lodge. If the school has been doing this tradition for years, you’d think a previous student would have already done this assignment, but here’s Mary Anne, reading about the ghost of Leicester Lodge. The cook saw a hat fly once.
She also writes a letter to Logan even though he’s in Aruba. I love the post office, but they cannot get a letter from Vermont, which, if you remember, is covered in a storm, to Aruba, a country in the Caribbean, all in one week. She starts it with “My dearest Logan,” and continues with, “My thoughts are with you and only you every second of every day.” Someone took a documentary about the Bronte sisters a little too seriously. Then she worries that he’s hanging out on a beach with a pretty girl. She doesn’t do any more work on her extra credit project.
Jessi
Jessi doesn’t want to ski, slip on some ice, and then break her arms and legs, rendering her unable to dance. This seems to bother her, but I think it’s a completely fair worry. Instead, she volunteers to entertain Pinky, a girl with a ridiculous name who sprained her ankle in the bus accident.
Pinky is a jerk. She’s terse and treats Jessi like a personal servant, the optics of which are not great. When Jessi wins a game of Memory against Pinky, the girl accuses Jessi of cheating. That seems to be a common tactic for terrible people when they lose. The winner is cheating, or committing fraud, or switching votes even though to do so would require the magic of Doctor Strange.
Stacey
Stacey assists Ms. Halliday with the elementary school kids on the ski slopes. After a few lessons, Stacey is free to ski on her own and she goes down the bunny hills. Alan Gray, a boy who harassed the girls but it’s portrayed as comedy, is slamming into the other boys.
Eventually, even Stacey is a victim of someone slamming into her. This time, however, it’s a cute boy named Frenchie d’Croissant, er, excuse me. His name is Pierre D’Amboise. Of course, Stacey is instantly smitten and she refers to this as her “first meaningful crush,” and “any past crushes suddenly [don’t] count.” Yeah, fuck clear off, Toby.
Mallory
And what is the oldest of the Pike children doing with a journal this time? Is she spying on people again, like in Super Special #1? Of course, she is. But that’s not all she’s doing. She is also dealing with a fear of going to a dance. I’m not sure if the dance is mandatory, but it really shouldn’t be. When I was in middle school, no dances were mandatory. They also took place during school hours and if you didn’t go to the dance, you had to go to the library or the cafeteria. The school held a dance just after lunch and afterward, you still had to go to the seventh period. Cool dance.
Anyway, Mallory has another reason for her journal-based project besides spying on her friends and teachers.
I planned to work hard on my writing, since I want to become an author one day.
See? If a publishing house sacrifices privacy at the altar of capitalism, then it’s completely acceptable behavior. The Supreme Court says that we don’t have privacy for the sake of capitalism and keeping a supply of babies for entitled couples, so the students of Stoneybrook Middle School have no reasonable right to expect privacy. (Too soon? Should I leak this and then jack off for two months and release it anyway?)
Mallory discovers Mary Anne missing Logan, Ms. Halliday crying, the other kids not liking Pinky, and Stacey making out with some boy. She says that the contents are too mature for her siblings. There’s a kids’ movie where a bee fucks a grown-ass woman, so I wouldn’t be worried about the triplets reading about consensual kissing between teenagers.
Dawn
Dawn is having some trouble. She screws up during the ice skating relay. Dawn drops the baton. Her team loses and since everyone has such an attachment to whatever team color they’re on (I don’t remember who’s on which side), the whole team is angry at Dawn and they bully her. They pummel her with snowballs. Because that will help the team win the next competition, I think? I’m not sure what they’re going for.
Dawn finds Mary Anne and tries to confide in her, but all Mary Anne can think about is her dopey boyfriend. Dawn fires her as her bunkmate, but Dawn can’t fire Mary Anne because Mary Anne quits!
Mary Anne
Mary Anne speaks with an old lady who has never heard of the Leicester Lodge ghost. Then she talks to the cook who saw the flying pan. Then she talks to another old person who doesn’t know anything about the ghost.
Finally, she talks to Mr. George. In the late 1930s, a visitor was found dead in his bathtub and after that, some guests reported some strange occurrences. And that’s the end of the ghost talk because it’s time for Mary Anne to mope about Logan again. This time, with her teacher Ms. Halliday, who is missing her fiance.
Kristy
Kristy and Claudia set up an impromptu snowman contest for the elementary kids.
But what could we give the Conway Cove winner?
“I know!” Claudia cried suddenly. “But I can’t tell you what it is. It’ll be a surprise.”
“What if we don’t like it?” asked Amber.
Yeah, I thought.
But all Claud would say was, “Trust me. It’s good.”
She has no idea what to give the winner. A “surprise” is code for “gimme some time to scrap something together.”
Claudia snaps a Polaroid of each kid with their snowman creation. The prize is a ribbon under their Poloroid. The kids seem happy. I would have opted for the cash instead, but that’s just me.
Later, it’s finally time for the official snowman-building contest between the Red and Blue Teams. Because it would be a conflict of interest, Claudia sits out- just kidding. Like a Supreme Court Justice, Claudia disregards her obvious conflict of interest and judges the contest in her own team’s favor.
Kristy is upset. Is it because of the obvious issue of having a member of one team judge both teams in a subjective contest? No. It’s because Claudia is a good skier.
Claudia
Despite Claudia’s skiing prowess, she still takes some lessons from a professional. The professional turns out to be a cute guy named Guy. For the third Super Special in a row, Claudia has a crush. Remind me, who is supposed to be the boy-crazy one?
After a skiing montage, Guy, who looks about twenty-five, calls her a “champion” in an exaggerated accent. Claudia knows that Guy loves her, which would be a felony.
Jessi
Jessi goes over the logistics for the talent show. The teachers want to cannibalize the time, so there are only about thirty-eight minutes for the students in this student talent show. Anyway, it’s time for tryouts.
Some girl sings a song called “Stop Pickin’ on the President.” I have never heard of this song, but it sounds terrible. Regardless of who the president is, everyone should pick on the president. And it’s Biden right now if there’s any doubt, which there shouldn’t be. We should always pick on politicians in power. And the dead ones, too.
Alan Gray does some Vaudeville sketch. Some girls lip-sync to some apple song. Another girl tap dances. Another set of girls puts on a skit about a ghost that was both “funny and scary.” Finally, one kid does “Doe, a Deer” with his armpit. Stop the contest, just send that kid up there for thirty-eight minutes.
Even the elementary school kids audition. Most of them sing old fifties songs. It’s weird. The only fifties song I remember at a school talent show was when my friend danced to the song “Polka Dot Bikini” in an outfit appropriate for the song title, but not for a first-grader. Most of the songs at the school talent shows that I attended in elementary school were contemporary. The first talent show after “Macarena” featured fifty kids doing the dance onstage at the same time. However, the abundance of fifties nostalgia is not the least realistic thing about the talent show. Stay tuned for that!
The rest of the elementary school kids who aren’t talented enough to sing fifties songs need to do something, so Jessi suggests they put on a skit about their school and teachers. Pinky says that it might be a bad idea because the teachers might get mad. Jessi suspects that Pinky voted for Tru-, ahem, excuse me. Jessi suspects that Pinky is racist.
Dawn
Dawn’s feelings of inadequacy are taking over so Dawn declines to participate in the snowball fight, which is actually just Capture the Flag. Instead, she goes to the library and plays Monopoly with two randos who don’t matter. What matters is that Dawn loses so quickly that the randos are astonished, so I guess that means the game only took seven hours instead of the usual seven days and a phone call.
Then Dawn sees Pinky crying. Pinky says she’s been unpleasant because she’s homesick. That’s supposed to excuse her behavior toward Jessi. I don’t buy it. She was unpleasant to everyone, but the only person she treated like a servant was Jessi. I don’t care what Dawn says, I still think Pinky is racist.
Dawn rewards Pinky’s behavior with hot chocolate.
Mary Anne
And just like that, Dawn and Mary Anne make up.
Then Mary Anne is back to writing letters to Logan that sound like she’s a Victorian ghost whose husband hasn’t come back from his whaling trip.
My dearest, darling Logan,
How I miss you. How I pine for you. How I yearn and long for you.
After that, she writes a terrible sketch that implies she’s not a feminist, which would be massively disappointing. When she gives the sketch to Jessi, Jessi tells her that they already have a sketch, but thanks for trying.
Then Mary Anne gets a call. It’s from Saturday Night Live! They want to do her terrible sketch instead. Not really. It’s just Logan. They say they miss each other and have a boring conversation and say they love each other.
Mallory
During her spying, the youngest BSC member mistakes parmesan cheese for poison. Then she blames Pinky’s racism on Jessi. Sort of.
She decided that Pinky’s nasty behavior was a result of being prejudiced. But if Jessi had opened her eyes and looked beyond her own problems, she’d have seen that Pinky was having some trouble being away from home.
Oh, how silly of Jessi, a person who experiences racism every day, think that a girl, who treats Jessi like a servant, may be prejudiced. Yes, the problem is on Jessi, not the girl who acts racist when she’s sad.
First Mary Anne is making fun of feminism and now Mallory is making excuses for the racist kid. This is not a great look.
Later that night, the students gather in the main room and tell ghost stories. They are mostly of the urban legend variety, including the woman whose dog bit off a would-be burglar’s finger (which I think was on an episode of Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction?), and the escaped maniac/boyfriend scratching at the roof of a car.
The stories spook the kids. When I was thirteen, I knew all those urban legends better than I knew the stories in The Baby-Sitters Club. It probably helped that there was a movie all about those stories called Urban Legend that we all watched and loved. (Looking back, I can’t recommend the movie. The best thing about it is that Jared Leto, who portrayed the main lead, doesn’t think he’s in the movie.)
Jessi
It’s finally Talent Night. The teachers need their fifteen minutes of fame because they didn’t get it when they were young and hot. We have come to the least realistic thing about this story, grinding the book to a halt, reminding us that an adult woman wrote these:
One teacher stepped forward and said, “Welcome to the Do-wop Stop.” Then he stepped back in line. For the next seven or so minutes those teachers sang a medley of fifties hits. That in itself was pretty good because it turned out that these, like, math and social studies teachers could actually harmonize. But the fun part was that they’d changed the words of the songs, so they were singing about things like kids cutting classes, the noise in the cafeteria, the bus ride to Leicester Lodge, and even the Winter War. When they were done, they somehow seemed like real people to me, instead of just teachers. I guess they sounded like that to the rest of the kids, too, because they got a huge round of applause.
What? Absolutely not. I went to talent shows. I went to mandatory pep rallies. I went to school presentations. At all those events, teachers sometimes did things like lip sync, put on little sketches, sing songs, or dress up in what they thought was “hip” clothing. I watched all these attempts to connect with the kids. I saw it all, and I never thought it was fun, interesting, relatable, or whatever it was supposed to instill in me. What it did instill in me was embarrassment. For me, for the teachers, and for everyone involved. I wanted to curl into the tiniest iota of a ball and fly away to a place where I didn’t have to watch whatever the teachers were doing.
Sometimes we didn’t know the old song they were singing and then they tried to get us to sing along. You can’t sing along to a song you don’t know, Mrs. Parker!
Not knowing the old song was better than when they tried to be contemporary. That was worse. That was a nightmare. It was not fun when they changed the lyrics. Hey, that’s not the song I know! Just sing the stupid song like it sounds on the radio. But that wasn’t what made it a nightmare. Sometimes the teachers would dress up. They’d put on puffy pants, backward hats, and those sunglasses that were slit, and then they’d rap. And they’d rap and dance. They’d gesticulate in a way that, for them, meant hip-hop, but to us, it meant they had never listened to anything harder than Vanilla Ice. Only clean rap for them. Looking back, their performance was probably quite racist – like Baby’s First Minstrel Show.
And after it was over, there was no wild applause. There was no admiration. There was polite, if not lackluster, applause and relief that it was over. And then there was the reflection. How do they not know that’s not how you dress or dance? Do they know the actual song? Do they know how “California Love” actually goes?
Finally, the dread set in. “Are we going to be like that?”
Jessi may have had a good experience, but she was written by an adult white woman who forgot about the abject embarrassment intrinsic to teacher performances.
The rest of the talent show features fifties music and a boy redoes a skit from I Love Lucy. Finally, Pinky apologizes to Jessi.
Now the Do-Wop Show should apologize for digging up memories I thought I had banished into the farthest depths of my mind.
Claudia
While fantasizing about her ski instructor as if he were a predator, somehow, Kristy’s team (blue) beats Claudia’s team (red) in the ski race. At lunch, Claudia talks about how Guy likes her. Mary Anne says he is too old, and she would be correct. Claudia remarks that age doesn’t matter. Claudia, age matters a lot. The only dudes who would agree with you are dudes you shouldn’t be talking to. They’re also the ones who know the age of consent in every state.
Then Guy introduces Claudia to his family – a wife and kid and everything. Guy is not a predator, but Claudia is still devastated. I, the reader, am relieved.
Kristy
The first thing Kristy does that morning is scour the cafeteria for cross-country skiers. She finds two victims, both of whom have little to no experience with cross-country skiing. One ends up falling and the other kid breaks his ankle. Kristy’s team loses both the event and the entire war.
Kristy finally realizes she’s been a jerk and she runs to Mary Anne. She says that the point of the game was to have fun. No, Kristy, the point of the game is to get you accustomed to pointless competition so the only way you can feel successful is through the suffering and loss of another person or group of people.
Mary Anne soothes her.
Mallory
Mallory doesn’t want to go to the dance because she can’t dance. I think it’s a valid reason, but the other members of the BSC don’t think so. Plus the elementary school kids are going to the dance also, so it’s more like a school-wide gathering with dimmed lighting.
Anyway, because people can’t just say no and everyone stops bothering them, Mallory goes to the dance. Some boy from her math class asks her to dance. Mallory wonders what she was worried about. I continue to think dances are stupid.
Stacey
Stacey puts in a fancy hair clip and dances with Pierre. They promise to write to each other. He kisses her hand and she vows to never wash her hand again. Stacey becomes a super spreader.
Mary Anne
They arrive back in Stoneybrook safely, there are some postcards, and Mary Anne refers to the BSC as the greatest friends in the world.
Once again, it’s time for my arbitrary ranking of the stories, starting from the worst and ending with the best.
Kristy – Who the hell cares about the Winter War?
Dawn – See Kristy.
Claudia – I’m glad Guy wasn’t a predator, but she needs a different storyline besides a crush.
Stacey – Pierre seems fine. There wasn’t much Winter War with her stuff, so that was welcome.
Mallory – Why is she spying on people again? Also, if she doesn’t want to go to a dance, don’t make her. Why are the characters so dedicated to making people do things they don’t want to do?
Jessi – I don’t care what her reasons are, Pinky is a miserable character to read about. I wholeheartedly disagree with Jessi about teachers performing, but I enjoyed the talent show auditions. It would be nice for Jessi to participate in something besides a talent show, though. She needs her own little romance instead of Claudia for the millionth time.
Mary Anne – The archaic prose in her letters made for the funniest moments in the book, but not for the right reasons. I liked the ghost stuff, but Mary Anne’s pining overshadowed what could have been a spooky tale about flying cutlery.
Overall, this book is a rehash of previous Super Specials. Claudia gets a crush, Mallory is spying, Jessi is dealing with a talent show, and Kristy is being a jerk. The only characters who get some variety are Stacey and Dawn. It’s not like they should stop doing these things altogether – I just want some variety. Add a little spice.
Additionally, the stories didn’t connect as much as I would like. Sure, characters had cameos in other characters’ stories, but none of these cameos really affected or changed a potential outcome for another character. Dawn sort of caused her team to lose the war, but when Kristy was scrounging for cross-country participants, I think the fate of the blue team was sealed.
But you know what? There are so many more Super Specials in the future and more opportunities to see the BSC in unusual circumstances. It wasn’t perfect, but I did have an enjoyable time reading it, even if it brought up some memories I would have preferred to keep buried.
So if you’re in a beautiful cabin like the BSC members, at a beach in Aruba, or at home, reading a book, I hope you’re safe and warm. Happy Holidays and I’ll see you next time!
For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written, go toRereadingMyChildhood.com. To listen to the official podcast, just visit the website or search for “Rereading My Childhood” in your favorite podcast app. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my websiteAmyACowan.com.
My experience with summer camp comes exclusively from friends, horror movies, and that episode of The Simpsons where Lisa and Bart go to Camp Krusty. As far as I’m concerned, summer camp is where your parents leave you to sing Bible songs, camp counselors get naked and stabbed, and then you overthrow the leadership after a string of broken promises.
I doubt that will happen in this book. However, there will be little adventures in this most special of episodes. Just like the previous Super Special, the chapters change narrators, so the essay will be structured in the same way. This narrator switching allows for a range of events to happen — a range of events that may or may not intersect with each other. So pack up that sunscreen, read up on dangerous plants, and get ready to run from murderous killer cams, it’s time to go camping!
Stacey
After some coaxing, Stacey decides to join her friends at Camp Mohawk. We’ll get to the problematic name, don’t you worry. She joins her friends, but there is one condition: everyone has to keep a diary that she will collate together at the end of camp.
Parents are dropping off their kids at the bus in a cacophony, not unlike the first day of school. Some kids are crying and they’re still forced on the bus, I guess. If your kid is crying and they’re not even at camp yet, maybe you should just let them stay home. This is not mandatory. Some kid is yelling about turnips. Another is yelling about her goldfish, which I’m sure will be the same one that she left behind.
Also, there are bags. A lot of bags. The campers are allowed to bring necessities and their own shoes and underwear, but all the campers are required to wear a uniform. Conformity is a necessity of camp, apparently. And just to add to the terribleness of this endeavor, all the clothes, including socks, have the same symbol. Stacey, take it away:
A teepee. Now, I don’t know a lot about Indian culture, but I know this much. The Mohawk Indians are part of this large Iroquois nation. And the Iroquois lived in longhouses, not teepees.
But what can you do? This was camp, not school.
Time to get into it. Don’t say “Indian.” “Indigenous” is good. The actual tribe name is better. What’s best is to not make a mascot out of the people who were systematically murdered by the government. Additionally, who cares if it’s not school? Being empathetic shouldn’t be location specific.
Finally, and most troublingly, Ann M. Martin wrote the book. She could have named the camp anything. Even if Stacey points out the problems, it’s still inappropriate. If it is a terrible name (and it is), and our characters know it (as indicated in the passage), that should be a plot point wherein a group tries to get the camp to change. Why name it something insensitive and have the symbol be something just as offensive if it’s not going to come up as a major plot point? The television changes the camp name to Camp Moosehead. The show is wonderful and perfect, and go watch it if you haven’t. And then cancel your Netflix subscription because there won’t be any new seasons of The Baby-sitters Club.
Kristy
Apparently, the whole camp idea started with Dawn. The California girl had been on a camp movie binge including Meatballs and The Parent Trap. Good thing Sleepaway Camp wasn’t on that camp movie list, otherwise, Dawn might rethink her camp idea.
Like most things in Stoneybrook, the idea spreads like wildfire, and soon, all of the BSC, plus some select kids, are going to Camp Mohawk, bringing the grand total to twenty-three. With all the kids we know, the random kids we don’t know, the BSC and the other CITs (counselors-in-training), and the actual counselors, there’s going to be a lot of names, so brace yourself.
The most surprising kid going to camp is Charlotte Johanssen, who is already crying and yelling, “I don’t want to go away!” For some reason, she still leaves with the bus. At least she has her best-friend Becca Ramsey with her.
On the bus ride, Margo Pike throws up and camp officially begins.
Claudia
Claudia gets to be with her best friend once again and they talk about body waves and perms. Their talk is cut short when they get their room assignments and all the BSC (except Mallory and Jessi) are split up into different cabins. Haley Braddock and Vanessa Pike are in the same cabin as Claudia along with some other girls whose names I never remembered. There are a lot of names thrown around, and you can’t expect me to remember all these girls who don’t contribute much and speak in one line a piece.
Jessi
Unsurprisingly for a camp with an insensitive name, the camp is lacking in melanin, so Jessi is understandably nervous. Luckily, Mallory and Jessi are assigned to the same cabin. Also, they are CITs in training. They were given a special title after they wrote essays about The Baby-Sitters Club in their camp applications. Camp Director Mrs. Means (lovingly referred to as “Old Meanie”), gives them the titles in exchange for creating a show with some of the younger campers for Parents’ Day.
That’s all well and good, but a few of their cabinmates, Maureen, Mandi, and two Marys, laugh at them and call them “Bobbsey Twins.” That’s not so bad, but Mandi adds, “They don’t look like any kind of twins, if you know what I mean.” No, Mandi, what do you mean? You’re either racist, stupid, or both, and I would like to know which one. My money’s on both.
Mary Anne
Fun fact! Mary Anne addresses her postcards to both her father and her cat.
Mary Anne meets her co-CIT — a girl named Randi who dresses like Claudia and, unfortunately, we have to settle for a description of Randi’s accessories instead of an installment of “What’s Claudia Wearing?”
On the first day, she wore parrot earrings, (Claud has a pair of those), a braided string bracelet on one arm, a wistful of bangles on the other arm, and even an ankle bracelet over one teepee sock. The bracelet spelled out her name. In her hair was a headband with a neon green bow attached to the side. It clashed with the green words CAMP MOHAWK on her T-shirt, but who cared?
To make herself sound cooler, she tells the girls that she’s only at camp to be close to her boyfriend, Logan, who’s a CIT at the boys’ camp. How are they closer at a camp where the boys and girls are separated instead of at home where they don’t have arbitrary walls? Either way, the girls don’t believe her, but Mary Anne is determined to prove she’s as cool as the others.
Dawn
The one to blame for all this finally shows her face! And she’s here to tell us all about each camper! In a list. Not unlike this list of events separated by italicized names. Hey, show, don’t tell, leave the room, because we have a list of names and basic descriptions to get through!
I’m not regurgitating all that. The only one you need to remember is Heather, who likes to read quietly and strictly follows word economy. I like her already.
Stacey
There’s a pink eye inflammation at Stacey’s cabin. To attempt to stop the spread, Stacey sends the infected girl to the infirmary. Unfortunately, the girl says that pink eye is a hoax and she should be allowed to rub her eyes on everyone else because stopping her is a HIPAA violation. I’m kidding. This is fiction — not real life! The girl understands and goes to the infirmary.
That night, Stacey discovers that she can’t eat the food that the cook is providing for her. She tells him that she can’t eat the food.
“Listen,” he replied, “you get what you get. I know the food’s not gourmet, but you don’t see anyone else coming back here just because this isn’t like home cooking.”
“But I’m diabetic.” I was trying to explain what that meant when Mrs. Means came in. She and the cook and I had a talk. When I left the kitchen a little while later, I was carrying a plate of meat, carrots, an apple, and a sugar-free whole-wheat muffin — on a clean plate, with no traces of honey.
You’d think the cook would be accustomed to dietary restrictions, but I guess it was the late ’80s and if you had a life-threatening peanut allergy, though shit, kid. I guess you’ll just die.
That night, Mrs. Means gives a talk on various camp diseases, like Lyme disease, and Stacey is freaked out. Then they sing some camp songs and that alleviates some of Stacey’s anxiety.
Mallory
Mallory and Jessi have their first chance to work with the kids. Becca and Charlotte are there, but Charlotte just spends her time crying and having stage fright. Becca is not any better. Unlike her graceful sister, Becca has no rhythm. I know how you feel, Becca. I’m the only Filipina born without a musical sense. There are more of us. We meet every second Wednesday of the month. No music allowed. We wouldn’t understand it anyway.
Kristy
One of Kristy’s co-CITs is named Tansy. There’s also Izzie and Lauren and they are all very cool, as Kristy demonstrates.
Tansy, Lauren, and Izzie were wearing smart-looking white lace-up Adidas on their feet, and I was wearing blue Ponies with Velcro straps. I almost always wear lace-up running shoes, but just before we left for camp, I saw these Ponies in a shoe store and bought them. I thought they looked really cool.
I guess I was wrong.
Ponies are cute. I don’t know about those Velcro straps, though. That’s an odd look for a thirteen-year-old.
Kristy also sees Izzie’s bra strap when her t-shirt falls to one side. Kristy is scandalized. Why? Because Kristy doesn’t wear a bra yet. That’s an issue for some reason.
Claudia
It’s time for some summer romance!
Some CITs from the boys’ camp come over to invite the CITs from the girls’ camp over for a movie night. One of the boys and Claudia meet glances. Bring on the casual racism!
All I could do was look at one of the other boys. He was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous — and incredible and wonderful. I’m sure of it.
And I think he’s Japanese. Anyway, he’s Asian. He has black, black hair and dark, almond-shaped eyes, and creamy skin like mine. His hair is kind of punk. The top part stands straight up. He must have to use mousse or something on it in the morning. That and his black high-top sneakers were about as punk as he could get at Camp Mohawk. The rest of his clothes were teepee variety.
Again with the almond eyes thing. And Asians just believe in skin care — it’s not an inherited trait. Cleanse, moisturize, and sunscreen. And what is so punk about having some mousse in your hair? In high school, I knew a kid who put Elmer’s glue in his hair every morning to make it stick out in every direction as if he were the fifth member of Mudvayne. That’s punk.
Mary Anne
Mary Anne is desperate to prove she has a boyfriend and so she writes a ridiculous letter to Logan asking him to wear aftershave and bring her a yellow flower to match her yellow ribbon. Then she signs it with “Your love bunny, Mary Anne” and leaves it in a conspicuous place for the other girls to find.
They encourage Mary Anne to sneak over to the boys’ side and deliver the letter. Then the girls come up with a way to get around bed check complete with an oddly detailed map. The girls also warn Mary Anne about some insane asylum escapees.
Mary Anne sneaks out, but she’s chased through the woods. She stumbles and her pursuers catch up to her.
I began to scream.
“Go away! Get out! Don’t kill me! I’ve got a kitten at home. He needs me. Oh, yeah. I also got a gun.”
This is America, Mary Anne. If there are kids, there’s a crazy man with a gun.
Luckily, it’s just Mary Anne’s counselor, Connie, Mrs. Means, and two counselors from the boys’ camp. One of the kids who has it out for Mary Anne ratted her out. One of the boys takes her note and Mary Anne returns to her cabin. Mrs. Means punishes her — she can’t swim for three days — but the other campers have a little more respect for Mary Anne.
Logan
Logan writes in all caps. You better get rid of that habit by the time the internet becomes a thing.
Anyway, he gets Mary Anne’s letter, and it’s quite embarrassing for him. His cabin mates make fun of him and call Mary Anne a “feeb,” which stands for “feeble-minded person.” How ableist and gross. It also sounds like something a boomer would come up with in between saying that millennials shouldn’t have children they can’t afford and then yelling at us to give them grandchildren.
The chapter ends with the boys throwing food at each other and laughing.
Dawn
Dawn reminds us about her extensive camp experience, including a stay at “Camp La Brea.” Either that’s a poorly named camp in Death Valley, or it’s a camp at the tar pits. The tar pits are in the middle of downtown Los Angeles. Down the street from the old G4 channel headquarters. I’ve been to La Brea. If you camped there, you would be arrested for vagrancy.
Anyway, Dawn is oddly worried about Heather, the camper who just wants to read and doesn’t want to talk to anyone. Heather is me if my parents forced me to go camping when I was a kid. I think Heather is great and should be left alone, but Dawn doesn’t seem to agree.
Dawn’s counselor, Charlene, is called away while the girls are camping, and the new counselor won’t be there until the next morning. Dawn encourages the girls to have fun, eat junk food, and stay up, but Heather doesn’t want to participate. She just wants to read. Frankly, if Dawn cared about fun, she’d realize that reading quietly is Heather’s form of fun.
Stacey
Stacey is in the infirmary with a nasty rash. Is it Lyme disease, Stacey’s current obsession? Are minuscule bugs eating Stacey alive? No, it’s just poison ivy. But Stacey does have to spend the next few days with her new best-friend Calamine lotion and the camp nurse. Luckily, Stacey can talk to Miko, a fellow camper who broke her leg.
Kristy
Charlotte is afraid of balls. Me too, Charlotte, especially basketballs. And volleyballs. And baseballs. Just keep me away from sports. However, Charlotte enjoys the rehearsals with Mallory and Jessi.
During rehearsals, some girl laughs so hard that she wets her pants, which causes Becca to laugh so hard that she wets her pants. It’s a whole thing I don’t want to unpack.
Then Kristy’s cabin mates put some make-up on Kristy and she likens it to torture. That’s not torture, but fine, I guess it’s torture for a girl who lives in a three-story mansion with a ghost.
Claudia
Claudia’s cabin mates find out the name of the cute boy — and just in time for the movie. His name is Will Yamakawa and he is also mortified by the choice of Meatballs as the camp movie. A bit on the nose, doncha think?
The two of them bond over their grandmothers. Will’s grandmother had the coolest name rivaled only by “The Gabbers” — Tink. Grandmother Tink. Absolutely adorable and I love it.
I wasn’t aware of anything except the crackling fire and the moonlight and Will sitting next to me. After a long time, he reached over and took my hand. A chill went down my back. He didn’t let go until the CIT van pulled up and I reluctantly had to leave him.
Aww, Will is a sweetheart.
Dawn
Debra is here to take over for Charlene, just in time for the camp hike. The girls sing “Monster Mash,” the well-known late-’80s camp song, while the girls look out for cairns to indicate their location. Despite the cairn hunting, Debra gets lost, which means the whole cabin is lost as well.
However, Heather has been reading up on camping and survival and she is integral to the group. She is also the only one who seems to know how to read a map. Eventually, the girls find their camp from the previous night. However, the girls aren’t out of the woods yet, as it’s getting dark and they won’t be able to make it back to Camp Mohawk until late. They camp out for the night.
The next morning, Dawn’s group meets up with the search party, much to Mrs. Means’s relief. That’s one lawsuit avoided. She gives Heather a medal for bravery.
Mary Anne
So, the girls in Mary Anne’s cabin want to pierce her ears. Mary Anne is worried about her father’s reaction and how she would have to have “a nonprofessional job.” Oh no, what kind of life will she lead if she can’t work in a cubicle until her back hunches! And what’s wrong with having an unconventional job? I would love to have an unconventional job.
She still wants to prove that she’s cool, so she agrees to let her co-CIT stab her. It’s either this teenager with a needle or that teenager at Claire’s with a gun, so it’s a lateral move. The girls run around the camp looking for things like ice, a pen, a needle, and alcohol. At least they’re being sterile.
Mary Anne lays her head down and gets ready, but the stabber can’t do it. She’s never done it before and she hates the sight of blood. Just wait for menses, kid, you’ll get used to blood.
Mary Anne doesn’t get her ears pierced. Because Mary Anne was willing to go through with it before the girl stopped herself, she gains some respect from the girls. Then they all laugh for some reason.
Logan
The theme for the CIT dance is Valentine’s Day. It took the camp a whole three seconds to come up with it, so these little kids better enjoy it.
Logan’s cabin mates are terrible and continue to use the pejorative “feeb,” making them not cool at all. For some reason, they “grin” when they see that Mary Anne is not the aforementioned word. She was unable to attend the movie night, so this is the first time that Logan can see her. This is also the first time Mary Anne’s cabin mates see Logan, proving he exists and doesn’t live in Canada, where the girls wouldn’t know him.
They dance. There’s some banter. Then they kiss goodbye. It’s fine.
Claudia
Each chapter starts with a postcard from the narrator to a side character. The postcards and their recipients have not been worth mentioning. So far, Claudia’s postcards have been to Mimi, her parents, and Janine. That is pretty standard. However, this postcard is addressed to Ashley Wyeth, whom I thought we were done with.
Anyway, it’s the dance and Claudia spends the whole time dancing with Will. When Logan tries to cut in, Claudia is nothaving it. She gets back to Will and they have a pretty heavy talk.
Then, in a quiet moment, Will whispered into my ear, “You know what? I feel like Tink is watching me now, and she’s happy because she knows I’m happy.”
Will’s breath on my hair tickled my neck, but all I said was, “That’s nice. I hope she’s happy for other reasons, too. Do you think that, wherever she is, she’s with your grandfather?”
Will looked very serious for a few moments. At last he said, “I don’t believe in heaven and hell, but I do believe that the spirits of Tink and Big Papa are together somewhere. So I know they’re happy. Both of them.”
Again, Will is a sweetheart.
Unfortunately, the evening has to end and Claudia and Will say tearful good-byes before she boards the bus and cries until she gets to her cabin.
Then the younger campers ask how it was and what Will was like. Then they laugh for some reason. I’m sensing a pattern here.
Kristy
Before the dance, Kristy’s cabin mates gave her a big makeover. Even Kristy thinks she looks good. She dances and hangs out with Mary Anne and Logan. Then she goes back to her cabin. Presumably to laugh for some reason.
Stacey
Stacey may be rashy, but that doesn’t mean she can’t go to the dance!
Usually, that’s exactly what that means, but Stacey is recovered enough that she’s able to go to the dance. She’s even allowed to return to her cabin.
The next morning, she wakes up and it’s Christmas! There’s snow in the window and presents for the cabin!
“During each session of camp,” she explained, “one cabin in each age group surprises the other cabin with Christmas in Summer. It’s a big secret. No one knows what day will be Christmas.”
First Valentine’s Day, now Christmas? This camp is a money laundering scheme for a shady Holiday Village, isn’t it?
And the snow in the window? It’s baby powder. This is clearly a threat. Here. Merry Christmas. You’ll get cancer if you don’t keep your mouth shut about this money laundering scheme.
Jessi
It’s finally Parents’ Day! For an inexplicable reason, Mallory and Jessi made Becca and Charlotte the leads in the dance recital. Those two? The one who can’t dance and the one who cries if two people look at her?
Surprisingly, the show goes off without a problem. And after the show, Mary, Mary, and Mandi all apologize for treating Jessi and Mallory so poorly. However, Maureen doesn’t say anything to the girls. Jessi remarks, “Some people never learn.” No, Jessi, Maureen is just racist. You can find her yelling Conservative talking points at a clinic every day because she doesn’t have a job or a hobby.
And with Parents’ Day, the camp has come to an end. The parents collect their kids and everyone gets into their respective vehicles and then they all laugh.
Stacey
We have some letters that Stacey compiled into the diary. This also serves as an epilogue for the novel. Claudia and Will write to each other. Stacey gets a Christmas card from one of the campers. Kristy sometimes puts on mascara now. Mary Anne writes to the other CITs, but she doesn’t think it will last long. Dawn wants to sign up for survival training and she writes to Heather. Speaking of, Heather will not be attending camp next year. And finally, Mallory and Jessi write to Mandi.
Now it’s time for me to rank each story based on arbitrary criteria from worst to best.
Logan — It was only two chapters and it was filled with terrible boys whom I hated.
Dawn — It’s annoying to watch someone bother another person who seems perfectly happy doing solitary activities.
Kristy — She was a passive participant in her makeover, which does not make for a particularly interesting story.
Stacey — She spent most of her time in the infirmary, but at least she did something.
Mary Anne — I know what it’s like to want to be cool.
Jessi — Jessi and Mallory stuck together and were able to put on a good show, despite their cast. As Little Vickie says, “People go to a children’s dance recital expecting a certain level of professionalism.”
Claudia — Will was sweet. Their relationship was sweet. And what’s a summer vacation without a summer romance that is doomed to end when the leaves change?
The second Super Special was a fun read, however, the stories don’t intersect with one another as much as the first Super Special. That’s fine, I don’t need them all to culminate in a third-act climax, but the interactions between the girls are what make the books enjoyable. The only two who talk to each other are Mallory and Jessi, and there’s a reason why they are ranked high.
This book, on the other hand, features significantly less Karen than the first Super Special, so that’s great.
If you’re interested in seeing the girls at camp, read this, then watch the Netflix show.
Now go have some summer fun, whether that means swimming or staying inside with a good book. I know which one I’ll be doing. And then I’ll laugh for some reason.
For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written, go to RereadingMyChildhood.com or follow RereadMyChildhd on Twitter. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my website AmyACowan.com or follow my Twitter: amyacowan.
I love California. I love the coastal cities with museums and attractions and the laid-back energy of the influential surfer culture. I love the areas outside the cities, where perfect rows of crops grow along the highway. I love the deep woods with dense trees and the mountains with snow-covered tops or thick greenery, depending on the time of year and global warming. I even love the colored layers of rock that make the jagged hills in the middle of the desert. California is a diverse place with diverse people, so when I saw that the next book is about Dawn’s return to the left coast, honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Ann M. Martin’s depictions of Californians have been less than stellar. For example, we have yard sales. That’s not exclusive to the east coast.
This book has the dubious distinction of being the first BSC book not written by Ann M. Martin herself. That’s the thing about the BSC — Ann M. Martin may have had her name on the cover, but most of the books were ghostwritten. If there’s one thing Stine has on Martin, it’s that at least he wrote all the Goosebumps and Fear Street books. So, it’s Jan Carr’s turn with the BSC, and this time, we’re taken away from Stoneybrook, and we’re traveling to California.
Dawn’s mother is shipping Dawn back to California for spring break while dreaming about avocados, as if they’re unavailable in Connecticut, apparently.
Before Dawn returns to California (regretfully referred to as “C-Day” — the regret is not on her part — it’s on mine, for reading it) the BSC throws a going-away party at Kristy’s mansion. The whole BSC is invited, of course, as well as Karen and Andrew, because nothing says party like a six-year-old. Meanwhile, Watson says weird stuff.
“Excuse me. Excuse me.” Someone was pushing his way through the crowd. It was Watson Brewer, home from work. “Well,” he said, as he took a look at the chaos that greeted him. “Five more daughters, huh? Where did I get them all? Hello, girls.”
What a dorkass nerd.
The girls eat pizza and watch Fright Night at Spook Lake, a movie that only exists in Scholastic books from the eighties. Then the party is over and it’s time for Dawn to get a good night’s rest for the plane ride the next day.
Dawn’s mother sees her off at the gate, which is still weird for me to read. Then Dawn lets us know how flight attendants work. She talks to an old man, which made me uncomfortable. Hey, Dawn, don’t fall asleep on the plane if you’re sitting next to an old man. Especially if he’s some kind of producer, which this man claimed to be.
When Dawn lands, her brother, Jeff, and her father are waiting for her while singing “California Girls.” Since this is 1989, I’m assuming it’s the Beach Boys song, not the Katy Perry song. This makes the context gross since the Beach Boys had a strange resurgence in the ’90s that displayed sixty-year-old men dancing around eighteen-year-olds in their music videos. Disgusting. I don’t care if Pet Sounds changed your life, Mike Love should not be trying to pick up twenty-year-olds at a Tr*mp ne0-N*zi rally.
One of the first things that Dawn’s father does is take his children to Disneyland. Now, remember, this is 1980s Disneyland, so I guess we have to read a list of every Disneyland area and ride because cultural osmosis hasn’t reached the BSC audience, I guess. It’s an amusement park with Mickey, you don’t need to know the name of Big Thunder Mountain Railroad as it has no relevance to the plot. Anyway, Dawn buys ears for each member of the BSC, so she spent the money saved for her first year at a state university. After they watch Captain Eo, Jeff starts moonwalking everywhere, which is hilarious to Dawn. They also go on the Mark Twain Riverboat (they call it the “steamboat”) and Dawn imagines she’s the man himself coming up with stories. That boat is an excuse to sit down for fifteen minutes to get away from the crowds. Finally, they do something that appeals to me.
Haunted Mansion is right up my (spooky, ghost-ridden) alley. On the outside it’s an old New Orleans house. You know the kind. It has those wrought-iron, curlicue trellises bordering all the porches. Inside, though, it’s a real spook house. To go through, you get in a Doom Buggy. Sound creepy? That’s the least of all of it. Ghost Shadows are cast on all the walls, and eerie music plays in the background. Upstairs, in the attic, there’s about an inch of dust on everything. I’m telling you, one trip through Haunted Mansion equals about ten good ghost stories. And I ought to know.
Really, Dawn? You ought to know if The Haunted Mansion is scary? First of all, I’m about to be pedantic, so strap in. Secondly, my love for The Haunted Mansion knows no bounds. Thirdly, it’s The Haunted Mansion. Haunted Mansion with no “The” is the cheap version at the County Fair whose most advanced animatronic is a skeleton on a stick. Fourthly, (it’s definitely “fourthly”), eerie music only plays at the beginning, but when you get to the graveyard scene, you get “Grim Grinning Ghosts,” which slaps. Fifthly and finally, you don’t know horror stories until you’ve got a woman tied to an oven who gets dough stuffed in her mouth until she suffocates. That’s horror. I guess that’s too intense for a kid’s book.
Back to the book, they watch some old black-and-white silent cartoons and Dawn’s father says that those cartoons are better than the current cartoons. I don’t think so, Mr. Schafer. Are you seriously telling me that these thirty-second cartoons that feature a simple story about getting a haircut with an aperitif of racial stereotypes are better than, say, Duck Tales, The Brave Little Toaster, or My Neighbor Totoro, all of which were contemporary to this book? No human not drowning in nostalgia would say that. And how old are you? You’re nostalgic for cartoons from the twenties and you’re a boomer? That’s as if I were nostalgic about Archie, a cartoon that has never been contemporary for me.
After Disneyland, Dawn’s best friend on the west coast, Sunny, invites Dawn to her house for a surprise. The surprise is the capitalist notion of working! I’m not kidding. Turns out Sunny, along with two other girls started their own baby-sitting business — the We ♥ Kids Club. I wouldn’t trust any business in which I had to use the Special Characters menu just to type the name. The club even has Kid-Kits filled with healthy cookbooks for children.
After the call, Sunny wandered off to the kitchen and brought us back a snack — apple slices with natural peanut butter.
It’s true, I thought. I really am back in California. This was a far cry from Claudia’s Ding Dongs.
Did you know that Ding Dongs were outlawed in California after the Great Ding Dong Massacre? What are you talking about, ghostwriter Jan? Californians eat Ding Dongs. Californians can eat sugar and crap, also. And on another note, California is the most diverse state in the union. How are all of Dawn’s friends blonde, white people? What are you implying about California? Or worse, what are you implying about Dawn and her family?
Luckily, the showrunners of the Netflix The Baby-Sitters Club present California Dawn in a more diverse light. I’m convinced that ghostwriter Jan has never been to California.
Maybe I’m being too hard on Jan. Even though the books were ghostwritten, the ghostwriters did use Ann M. Martin’s ideas and notes. I know Martin has never been to California, so maybe she just didn’t realize how diverse and special California was and still is.
Anyway, Dawn can’t take a break, even while on vacation, so she takes a job for the club. Yeah, kids, you understand? Even if you’re on vacation, you can’t escape your job. You can have your silly little hobbies like relaxation, but when the job calls, you can’t turn it down. You need to get used to working forever with no breaks. Gotta make that money so your boss can buy a media outlet and an abortion over state lines for his third mistress.
Back in Stoneybrook, Claudia and Mary Anne babysit for the Newtons and some of their cousins. There are chili shenanigans. Everything goes fine and no one has weird conceptions about California.
Speaking of which, Dawn, her father, the We ♥ Kids Club, Jeff, and Jeff’s friend, go to the beach, and Dawn remarks that they’re all blond, which made them a “stereotypical California group.” Again, I’d like to refer you to a U.S. News & World Report about California’s diversity. You’d find more blonde people in Stoneybrook, Connecticut than on that beach, especially considering the same study found that some of the least diverse states were New Hampshire, Vermont, and Maine, which are all close to Connecticut. (On another note, my state, Nevada, was ranked as the ninth most diverse state, so that’s nice!)
Lest you think I’m nitpicking on the blonde thing, the next pages are filled with passages about how blond they are. Dawn’s father says they look like the “Swedish delegation.” Dawn calls them by saying, “Blondes over here!” The girls put stuff in their hair to make themselves even blonder. It’s like, geez, I get it. You’re Aryan. No need to dwell on it.
Dawn and her father take some time out to connect since they haven’t gotten an opportunity since Dawn arrived. They talk about school, Jeff, Dawn’s mother, and the secret passage in Dawn’s house. Dawn figures out that her father is lonely, but Jeff throws some animals at them before Dawn could have a full conversation about loneliness. Then Dawn’s father says, “Blonde convention, ho!” which is the signal that it’s time to leave as well as an awkward thing to say.
The next day (or possibly later that day — time is strange in this book), Dawn babysits for two children named Daffodil and Clover, because of course they’re named that. We need to throw in all kinds of California stereotypes, and that includes the hippies, even though they were usually scattered around San Francisco, not Los Angeles. What are we going to have next? Random celebrities? Taco shops? Governor recall elections?
Anyway, Dawn takes them to a carnival. They play some darts and go on rides. There’s a woman dressed in jeans and cowboy boots leading a pony around. Clover thinks of herself as an “Indian brave.” That’s problematic thinking there, hippie kid. But what can we expect from the least diverse group of Californians?
Meanwhile, Jessi babysits for Karen, David Michael, and Andrew. The boys are building a Lego city while Karen wants to play “Let’s All Come In,” which is a terrible game and is also not a game. In case you don’t remember, it’s a non-game where Karen makes people pretend to enter a hotel and they are forced to tell everyone why they are in the hotel. You never tell people where you’re staying or why you’re staying somewhere. It’s a security thing, Karen. You don’t announce yourself in hotels, you don’t announce your room number, and you don’t talk to weirdos hanging out in the lobby. Geez, it’s almost like you’re six or something and you’re not concerned with security while traveling for your corporation.
While looking for outfits to wear during the nongame, Karen has to go to the third floor, which is where Ben Brewer the ghost lives. Karen finds some notes from the ghost himself and she is spooked. Jessi figures out that Kristy’s older brother Sam planted the notes for Karen to find, ensuring that Ben Brewer will forever haunt the third floor of this mansion.
Kristy babysits for the Pikes. We learn that the Pike parents don’t have many rules, in particular, and if the kids want to stay in their pajamas, that’s no problem. Somehow this annoys the narrator. My sister and I had that leniency in my childhood — and it’s turned me into a drug abuser! I’m just kidding, but as an adult, I do stay in pajamas if I’m not going anywhere.
The Pikes eat some ravioli and coleslaw, and then there’s a cookie adventure. Then they start writing secret messages to each other. Nicky runs to his hideout and says that he misses Dawn and writes her a letter. I guess that’s enough to convince Dawn to return to Connecticut. How long is this Spring Break? Dawn can receive correspondence from across the country. What is time in this book?
As a going-away celebration, Dawn’s father takes Dawn and Jeff to a Mexican restaurant, where we see the only people of color in all of California, according to this book. On the way home on the airplane, there isn’t a creepy man, so that’s nice.
When Dawn arrives in Stoneybrook, which has its own airport with direct flights to Los Angeles, but only one movie theater that plays only one movie, the whole club is waiting for her at the gate. They gush over her tan, ask about the other baby-sitting club, and ask about Disneyland. Dawn is confident in her decision to stay in Stoneybrook . . . at least until the California Diaries series (I’m getting there — I’m getting there, this is a hobby).
It’s fun to see the baby-sitters outside of their usual setting of Stoneybrook. New situations bring new adventures and seeing how our favorite characters react to the unknown, feelings of loneliness and homesickness, and reconnecting with the past make for a good story. However, I have some serious problems with this book.
The most obvious and glaring issue is Disneyland. I’m kidding. It’s an issue, but it’s not the issue. The biggest problem with the book is its depiction of California diversity — or lack thereof. Again, California is diverse — it’s not only blonde, white people everywhere. I’d argue that that depiction is more appropriate for Connecticut than California.
The state is more than beaches, Mexican food, hippies, and Disneyland. Not just California as a whole, but Los Angeles itself has more to it than the stereotypical things. This wouldn’t be such an issue if it was only this book (there’s only so much you can fit into 120 pages), but the overreliance on stereotypes is central to Dawn’s character, and this book emphasizes The Dawn Problem. Not all Californians eat healthy food, not all of them are blonde, and not all of them love the beach — and that’s the only depiction of the west coast we have in The Baby-Sitters Club. And that’s how all Californians are portrayed, even while Dawn is physically in California.
I hope that the California Diaries show the true diversity of California. Until then, I’ll try to remember Dawn’s good qualities — she’s capable, nice, independent, and an individual. That’s the true spirit of the west.
For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written, go to RereadingMyChildhood.com. To listen to the official podcast, just visit the website or search for “Rereading My Childhood” in your favorite podcatcher. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my website AmyACowan.com or follow my Twitter: amyacowan.
I like k-pop, and because I like k-pop, I am inundated with emails and Tweets about contests to win five minutes with your favorite idol. I get articles about how to conduct yourself during a fan meet. A friend of mine sends me videos of k-pop stars surprising fans.
And they all fill me with dread. Unlike most people, I have no desire to meet celebrities, especially celebrities I like. I once met Paula Poundstone after one of her shows because my sister wanted to get her CD signed, and I just stood to the side and said nothing with a doofy grin on my face. I do not stay after the concert in hopes of catching a glimpse of the tour bus. When the podcasters say they’re going to a bar down the street, I take it as a sign to go the opposite direction. A convention advertisement featuring the opportunity to meet someone from Star Trek? Absolutely not. The most celebrity interaction I want is a Tweet they never see.
But why am I like that? Why don’t I want to meet people whose work I appreciate? Is it because I don’t want to make a fool of myself? Maybe a little, but I don’t think I’m going to impress them. The reason I don’t want to meet celebrities is that I enjoy that piece of societal glass that separates us. You stay over there and I’ll stay over here. Thank you for your work, but we don’t have to have a personal interaction. I’m clearly projecting my need to avoid people onto celebrities.
That’s certainly not the case in Stoneybrook. A TV star is returning home and he happens to live in Stoneybrook and he’s a kid, so you know what that means! The mother gets an au pair. After all, she can afford it because her kid is a television star. I’m kidding. The BSC drove out the Au Pair Club in the brutal Stoneybrook Childcare Wars.
Becca’s favorite show, P.S. 162, is airing, so the whole family gathers to make fun of Becca’s crush on the black kid on the show, Lamont. The show revolves around a group of young kids in school. I thought the show was some kind of ‘80s Degrassi: The Next Generation (so, Degrassi Junior High), but the existence of a laugh track makes me think it’s more akin to the classroom scenes in Boy Meets World. (Unfortunately, it seems that family sitcoms replaced school sitcoms by the time I was watching TGIF, so I couldn’t think of a single non-drama school television show. Also, Welcome Back, Kotter is way before my time and I don’t know if it was a sitcom or if it has a laugh track. I’m under the impression that every show from the ‘70s is a cop drama.)
While watching the program, our attention is brought to a character named Waldo, who is a nerd with crazy hair. The Minkus of P.S. 162. I hope he has a backup plan because he’s going to disappear after season two. Anyway, it turns out that a Stoneybrook native, Derek Masters, plays Waldo, and he might be coming back.
At the BSC meeting, Jessi introduces us to all the members, and it’s time for this episode’s “What’s Claudia Wearing?”
She had two French braids pulled back and wound into one. She’s also a wild dresser. At the meeting she was wearing a bright pink T-shirt, a short red flouncy skirt, and underneath the skirt she had on black footless tights that she had rolled up to mid-calf.
It’s not that wild. This is relatively normal by today’s standards. Why she didn’t just get Capri tights, I don’t know. It’s not the craziest outfit I’ve seen her wear, so I’ll give it a 3/10.
The meeting continues with usual club business until Mrs. Masters calls. Jessi is the only one free, so she eagerly takes the job, excited to meet television’s Waldo and “get involved with show biz.” If Jon Peters can go from hairdresser to megaproducer, babysitter to actress is a reasonable trajectory. The only problem is that Peters was in Los Angeles and Jessi is in a city that, if you remember #26: Claudia and the Sad Good-bye, has never seen a kimono before.
And speaking of cultural insensitivity, Jessi makes fun of her teacher’s French accent during her ballet lessons. C’mon, Jessi, (also, Jan Carr, who wrote this book), you’re better than that.
Madame Noelle announces that there will be Swan Lake try-outs at the Stoneybrook Civic Center, and the competition will be stiff, as the Stoneybrook Civic Center is “so good it might as well be [in New York City].” Only one movie at a time plays in town. I doubt the Stoneybrook Civic Center rivals the Lincoln Center. It doesn’t matter to Jessi, who is excited to try out.
Before she can try out, she has to babysit for Derek Masters, who disappoints her the second she walks into his house. He doesn’t have crazy hair or the coke bottle glasses! How dare he not look exactly like the character he plays on tv?
Jessi gets over that quickly and she plays Candyland with him and his little brother, Todd. Derek is just a regular kid – not like the nerd character he plays at all. And there is no such thing as a nerd in real life, anyway. Toward the end of the job, he gives Jessi some pointers for her audition.
In the BSC Notebook, Mallory proposes a television series called Baby-sitter for the Stars. Y’all have a show already. Y’all have several. One has a theme song that is still stuck in my head twenty years later.
During another babysitting session with Derek, Jessi invites Becca over. Becca is less interested in playing than she is in asking Derek about Lamont who, if you remember, is her crush from P.S. 162.
Quick aside, P.S. 162 is a terrible name for a television show. Naming your show after the school it’s based around is fine. Degrassi is memorable. I read this whole book and I couldn’t remember the number for the school. “162” is a random set of numbers. How could I memorize that? Maybe if the school was “411” or something. There’s a reason it’s called Room 222. I can remember that even though I have no idea what the show is about except that the mom from Sister, Sister is in it. Also, we don’t name our schools after numbers here on the west coast. When I was a kid, I couldn’t figure out why the show was called that. I thought it referenced text at the end of a letter past the “Sincerely” or “LILAS.” In any case, as I’m writing this, I still have to reference the text to figure out the school’s number.
Anyway, Jessi takes Becca and Derek to the Pikes. Mallory gets a brand new affectation and suddenly she’s speaking as if she were a ‘50s housewife who is secretly a robot trying to emulate human speech.
“And you must be Derek. I’m so pleased that you could come visit us in our home today.”
“We are very pleased to extend our hospitality, aren’t we, Nicky? Do come in.”
They go into the backyard and play badminton – the most scandalous of Olympic duo sports. The game turns contentious when the triplets tease him about being on a television show, which is pretty much, “Hey, did they teach you that on set?” and serving the shuttlecock.
“Is that what they teach you in star school?” Jordan joined in.
Suddenly, Derek’s face turned bright red.
“Forget it,” he said. “Just forget it. Who cares about your crummy old game.” He threw down his racket and turned to face the triplets. “Anvil Head!” he shouted. “Cactus Brain! Pizza Breath!”
Whoa, Derek, language. You don’t want to say something you’ll regret.
While Derek is back in town, he returns to Stoneybrook Elementary and he doesn’t have a good time. First of all, the girls crowd him and declare their love. A photographer and a reporter accost him in the hallway. Does Derek’s teacher kick them out? Yes, but then the teacher introduces Derek like he is on a late-night talk show and makes him stand in front of the class and answer questions. Additionally, the boys find out he wears make-up while filming and they make fun of him for that and call him a brat.
Derek mentions one specific kid named John. During gym, John ties Derek’s sneakers together and yeets Derek’s lunch out the window. Jessi is so incensed she is speechless, but she does muster the ability to call John the meanest thing she can think of: Superbrat.
Meanwhile, Kristy sits for her siblings. Karen discovers that an actor is from Stoneybrook, so she decides that she is going to use Derek to get on television. Kristy shuts that idea down so Karen wears her “dress-up clothes” and invites Hannie Papadakis and Amanda Delaney over. Then they put on a play designed to convince Kristy to let Karen use a human being to her advantage.
In the play, Karen goes door-to-door begging for an acting job and she’s rejected each time, sending her into furious sobbing. Despite her failure, she doesn’t want to go back home and she knocks on one last door.
She knocked. Amanda answered.
“Who are you?” asked Karen.
“I’m the director,” said Amanda. “We’ve got a show to do here, but my main actress just got sick. I need someone else to step in and be a star.”
“I’m a star!” cried Karen.
“Then you’re hired!” said the director.
So, no starting small. No training. She just needed to knock on one last door.
This is literally the plot of Staying Alive – the sequel to Saturday Night Fever in which a nightmare of a man uses every woman around him and becomes a star by sheer audacity and going off-script, ruining the lives of the people around him.
Back in the world of Stoneybrook show biz, Jessi has her first audition. She reviews her resume (something her mother typed up for her, like, on a typewriter), while her father makes jokes about shaving off all her hair. Then she goes to the Civic Center and encounters a group of snarky girls who criticize all the dancers. In the end, Jessi gets a callback. She calls Mallory to let her know the good news. Mallory relays that Nicky said that Derek got in trouble for throwing food all over someone in the cafeteria. Jessi assumes that John the Superbrat pushed Derek too far.
Jessi isn’t the only one who sits for Derek. Claudia takes the young television star to the playground where Claudia and Derek encounter a group of boys who are in Derek’s class. Then Claudia invites the boys over to Derek’s house, presumably so they can torture him off school hours as well. Why did Claudia do this thing?
Claudia’s idea to invite the boys over was a smart one. She had a hunch that it would be good for them to see where Derek lived. They’d see that he was just a regular kid living in a regular house in Stoneybrook.
Don’t you love it when the book has to tell you that something is a good idea? Well, I guess it was because the boys have a good time. This is more fantastical than Tolkien. In real life, if those kids were really bullies, they’d hang around your house all day waiting for you to leave so they could give you a hard time. In this book, the group has a good time, and afterward, Claudia asks which one is John. Derek says that none of them are friends with John.
During Jessi’s next audition, Derek and his mother tag along. Jessi gets a callback, and Derek is excited for her, but he has a few notes. Suddenly, he’s Baryshnikov, something he acquired on the set of P.S. 162. Not really. He listened to the snarky girls and took some notes. And then they engage in some light assault. Derek also announces that he is going back to Los Angeles soon and he wants Jessi to come with him. Everyone knows that the home of true ballet is in Los Angeles. Well, he floats the idea of doing commercials and modeling. Jessi is interested in selling sugary drinks and heart medications.
It’s time for the BSC meeting and Jessi proposes an idea to help Derek. She wants to have a party and invite every kid in Derek’s class – including John the Superbrat. Unfortunately, not everyone likes parties so they scrap the idea. No, that’s not right. I don’t like parties. The real problem is they are all busy except for one morning, so they make it a breakfast party. It’s novel to them but I’m more familiar with “breakfast party’s” common parlance: brunch.
While the party planning is going on, Jessi talks to her parents about going to Los Angeles to become a model. They shut down the LA idea, but they say that she can be a model as long as it’s in Stamford. Jessi also has another audition and she says that it isn’t a big deal if she doesn’t get a part because she’s going to be a big commercial star, um, oh, you know, that guy. You know, that guy with the face who’s in all those commercials. Oh! Wait! You know, I think the pretty lady from Birdemic was in an IHOP commercial. Dream big, Jessi.
One page later, it’s time for the breakfast party – the culmination of sentences of planning. The BSC dress up in pajamas and bathrobes, and the kids compete in morning-themed relay races. Ugh. A party with a bunch of people, doing morning activities, and competitive running. I had a nightmare about this once. Derek eats with all the kids and everyone has a good time. Strangely, there is no kid named John. Girls, I know you’re twelve, but c’mon.
Toward the end of the party, Jessi has to leave early for her final audition. She won’t learn until Wednesday whether or not she’s in the ballet. It doesn’t matter to her – she has to call agents in Stamford! I’m sure they would love to be solicited by an eleven-year-old with no acting experience.
But that doesn’t matter either! She’s in! She’s one of the swan-maidens! She only had to wait for one page. Jessi admits that she really did want to be in the play and she only said that stuff about commercials because she was worried she wasn’t going to be chosen. She goes over to Derek’s to share the good news and to reject his offer to come with him to Los Angeles as a tutor or whatever.
Derek says he liked the party and Jessi asks about John. Finally, Derek tells us what’s going on.
“See, what happened,” he said, “was that the kids were bothering me so much that I had to get back at them. So whenever they did something mean to me, I started doing mean things back to them.”
“Well, why’d you say it was John?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Derek shook his head. “When I told you, it was like I had to tell somebody what I’d been doing, but I didn’t really know how to tell. And then once the boys started actually being friends with me, I didn’t have to do those things anymore. So John just kind of disappeared.”
And that’s it, folks! Derek says goodbye as he leaves for Los Angeles. Kids, if you want to make friends, bully some unwitting target. And don’t worry, after the kids befriend you, you don’t have to torment the target anymore – unless you want to stay cool.
I took theater for years and I knew kids who wanted to be on Broadway or movies or commercials. Not me. I barely wanted to act. I was there because it was dangerous and adrenaline-rushing and fulfilled an art credit, but I wasn’t doing anything that could land me in the hospital or required me to learn how to play an instrument. Admittedly, I’m a terrible actress. If there were enough kids in drama, I would have preferred to be on the tech crew, but I’m reliable when it comes to memorizing lines, so I was in a few productions. However, I still think of actors as some untouchable, faraway, beacon. A star, if you will. They are not “just like me.”
This middle-of-the-road BSC book didn’t make stars more accessible for me. But I also wouldn’t have talked to Derek at all. His life is none of my business and I would like to keep it that way. Truthfully, if I were a TV star, I wouldn’t want everyone up in my shit, so why wouldn’t I want that for the actors and actresses who bring me joy?
But it all worked out for Derek I guess. Break a leg, kid, and make sure you come back for another season. For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written, go toRereadingMyChildhood.com or followRereadMyChildhd on Twitter. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my websiteAmyACowan.com or follow my Twitter:amyacowan.
I never knew my grandfathers, but I knew both of my grandmothers. They lived with my family at different times and helped raise my sister and me. My maternal grandmother watched Star Trek: The Next Generation every Saturday at five, and that was my first exposure to science fiction, sparking a lifelong devotion to space ships and androids. My paternal grandmother ran off to Arizona with her boyfriend, showing me that even at the ripe old age of 80, life can still be a romantic adventure.
They have both died now, and they have been dead for more than ten years at the time of this essay. The pain has lessened, but I still think about them whenever I watch Geordi La Forge spout some jargon just science-y enough to sound correct without any actual science involved, or whenever I wonder if there’s still enough time in my life to travel around the world.
It’s time for Claudia to say goodbye to Mimi in The Baby-Sitters Club #26: Claudia and the Sad Good-bye, and if that’s too much of a spoiler, then you should be angry at the title, not me, and, frankly, death is easier when you’re prepared, which is something I learned with the death of my father, which is for another essay. For now, the inevitable death of our favorite Stoneybrook grandmother is our focus. And, if it’s not obvious, this one is a little sad.
Claudia starts the novel firmly cementing Mimi has a positive influence in Claudia’s life. Mimi is still dealing with the effects of the stroke she suffered in #7: Claudia and Mean Janine. Claudia has been helping her, but it seems like Mimi is getting worse. During the first BSC meeting of the book, Mallory remarks that Mimi yelled at her for taking Mimi shopping at a place that makes Mimi wait to use the dressing rooms. The problem is that Mallory has never taken Mimi shopping. It’s not looking great for the matriarch of the Kishi household.
Anyway, the BSC gets a phone call from the Addisons, who have two children: Sean and Corrie. They’re not looking for baby-sitting services, exactly, but they are looking for an art teacher for Corrie. Of course, Claudia jumps at the opportunity. Claudia has a great idea, even though those are usually reserved for Kristy:
“Maybe I could start a little art class. Like on Saturdays in our basement. Gabbie and Myriah Perkins love art projects. So does Jamie Newton. That would be fun. And good experience for me, in case I ever want to be an art teacher.”
“And,” said Kristy slowly, “it would show people that our club can do more than just baby-sit. I think it would be good for business.”
“I’d need some help, though,” I said slowly. “I don’t know if I could manage a class alone.”
“If you hold the class on Saturdays, I could help you,” spoke up Mary Anne. “We’ll split the money sixty-forty, since you’ll be in charge.”
I’m surprised Mary Anne didn’t say that slowly.
Later, during the Kishis’ dinner (after Janine’s college class entitled “Advances and Trends in Computerized Biopsychiatry,” which is nothing), Mimi passes out and the family rushes her to the hospital.
After a long series of tests, the doctors send her home, but it doesn’t seem like Mimi has recovered. Claudia becomes frustrated with Mimi and they have a brief argument. Claudia leaves in tears.
At the next art class, the kids mess around with watercolors as Marilyn and Carolyn mess with Jamie Newton. After all the kids have been picked up, Corrie’s parents are very late. So late that Corrie is the only one whose painting is dry when her parents finally arrive.
There’s another art class, but this one doesn’t go smoothly. Mimi comes downstairs during the lesson and collapses in front of the children. Claudia retrieves her parents while Mary Anne and Corrie distract the children and get them ready to go home early. Unfortunately, Corrie sees Mimi on the stretcher and cries, and her mother is forty-five minutes late.
Once again, the hospital is not great. They can’t get painkillers for Mimi. That is strange because every time I’ve been to the hospital, they are quick with the pain meds even if I wasn’t in any pain – just general throwing up and dizziness. Luckily, Mimi seems to get better as Claudia stays with her in the hospital. Eventually, the doctors discharge her.
After a few days, Claudia wakes up in the middle of the night and hears her parents talking. Mimi passed away while Claudia was asleep. Everything becomes hectic. Calling the relatives falls to Claudia’s parents, and people come over all day to offer their condolences. Claudia and Janine have a heart-to-heart. Claudia calls Stacey, who cries. Then Claudia calls Kristy, who doesn’t cry, thankfully, and Kristy offers to cancel the meeting. Claudia insists that they don’t cancel the meeting. They sit in silence. Janine even sits in on the meeting because she doesn’t want to be alone.
Claudia still wants to participate in club activities, even though Kristy let her opt out. The girls get pizza and share memories about Mimi, including the first time Mimi had pizza. The family had dressed up to eat at a Japanese restaurant and Mimi wore a traditional kimono. When they arrived at the restaurant, it was closed, so they ended up at a pizza joint.
“And everyone stared,” I said, “because Mimi looked like she was on her way to a costume party, but we ordered two pies anyway, and Mimi ate one slice very bravely.”
“And,” said Kristy, “as we were finally leaving that awful place where everyone had been staring at us, Mimi turned around, faced the people in the restaurant, and announced, “[sic]Best Japanese food I have ever eaten!”[sic]
Us club members were hysterical. Jessi even dropped a whole slice of pizza on the floor.
I don’t get it. Claudia calls an important garment a costume and Stoneybrook is racist? Like, people in Connecticut have never seen a kimono? I saw one in a store right next to the My Hero Academia enamel pins – it’s not that uncommon. And I’m sure pizza exists in Tokyo. If I was able to get pizza in a little mall in a village in the Philippines in 1996, I’m certain there’s some pizza joint in Akihabara in 1989. I don’t get why it’s funny that Stoneybrook is so devoid of culture that a kimono is perplexing to the locals. Or maybe Martin has some strange ideas about Japanese culture. Either way, the optics here are not great.
And speaking of strange cultural gymnastics, Mimi’s funeral is the next day and she’s buried. Not cremated, which is the custom for Japanese people. The whole funeral is, dare I say, white. White church. White customs. White people. There’s nothing remotely Japanese in the whole ceremony. It could be that Mimi converted, but I’m just not sure and this is not addressed in the text.
For the next few days, the kids at school don’t talk to Claudia, because everyone is up in everyone else’s business and the whole town seems to know about Mimi’s passing. Ashley Wyeth makes an appearance and she’s just as pleasant and warm as ever. That was sarcasm.
Claudia is thankful when the weekend comes and it’s time for her art lesson. The kids are making puppets and Corrie is making Nancy Drew. She wants to give it to her mother. Marilyn and Carolyn tell a dumb joke about twins named Trouble and Shut Up and that one is so old it went to college for fifty bucks a semester and now thinks everyone younger than it is entitled. After class, Claudia gets a call from Corrie’s mother.
“Well, the thing is, I’ve been held up doing my errands.” (She did sound like she was calling from a pay phone on the street.) “My bracelet won’t be ready at the jewelry store for another half an hour, and the man at the laundry is running late, too.” (What a tragedy, I thought.) “So, I was wondering if you’d keep Corrie for another hour or so, dear. I’ll pay you whatever the rate is for an unexpected call like this.”
Charge her an exorbitant fee like the landlord of a modestly-sized apartment! You got bracelet money, you got peak pricing money, lady!
Claudia and Corrie make sandwiches and talk to Janine. When Corrie’s mother finally shows up, Corrie gives the Nancy Drew puppet to Claudia.
The Kishis go through Mimi’s things. It turns out that Mimi wrote her obituary before she passed. Claudia talks about her anger toward Mimi for dying, the doctors for not doing enough to save Mimi, and herself for fighting with Mimi toward the end.
In art class, the students learn about collages and make their own. After class, Mrs. Addison is on time! Holy crap, drop the balloons! Cue the “Macarena!” Release the Al Gore!
“Hi,” replied Mrs. Addison. “I’m sorry I’m so early. My husband’s waiting in the car.” (She turned and gave a little wave toward a blue Camaro parked crookedly in our driveway, as if the Addisons were in a big hurry.) “I forgot to tell Corrie this morning that we have tickets to the ice show in Stamford. I mean, tickets for Sean and Corrie. They’ll meet a baby-sitter there, and then Mr. Addison and I can enjoy an afternoon to ourselves.”
Finally, it’s time for Claudia to confront Mrs. Addison.
“Did you know that Corrie is always the last one to leave my house after class is over? And that she’s always the first to arrive?”
Mrs. Addison checked her watch impatiently and glanced over her shoulder at the car waiting in our driveway.
“I love having Corrie around,” I went on. “She’s a terrific kid. But, well, she feels pretty bad about being left here . . . left here longer than any of the other children, I mean.”
…
“Did you notice,” I started to ask, “that Corrie hasn’t brought home any of her art projects?”
…
“I think,” I began (and oh, my lord, I hoped I wasn’t butting in where I didn’t belong), “that Corrie is a little bit mad at you and Mr. Addison.” (What an understatement.) “She wants to please you, but she gets angry and scared when she feels like,” (I tried to think of a nice way to say that Corrie felt her parents didn’t care about her), “like . . . sometimes other things are more important to you and Mr. Addison than she is.”
Mrs. Addison cries and says she’ll do better. I doubt it. Boomers will show contrition and the second it inconveniences them or they forget, things go back to the way they were before. Or they get mad at the possibility of being wrong and take it out on the teenager at Jack in the Box.
I hope the Addisons are saving some of that ice show money because Sean and Corrie are going to need a lot of therapy when they grow up. Honestly, these people shouldn’t have had kids. Not every couple is equipped, prepared, or ready for a tiny dependent human and the sooner people realize that the sooner we can focus on something more important like devastating climate change or Christmas toy shortages because apparently, those two things are equivalent in the eyes of capitalism. I’m just kidding. Capitalism only cares about consumerism and not the very ground we live on. Unless that ground has resources for consumption. But I digress.
Claudia is finally ready to confront her feelings about Mimi, and she does it in the best way for herself. She makes a collage featuring cut-outs from magazines that signify Mimi in some way or another – teacups for their “special tea,” needlework, a Japanese woman holding a Japanese baby. I’m assuming they are holding Goku figurines, sushi, and a flag, otherwise, how would Claudia know they’re Japanese.
Meanwhile, the kids in the art class have a special project they’ve been working on – another collage for Mimi. With all these collages, the Kishi house is overrun with them, and they display them in Mimi’s old room.
Losing a loved one is hard and I think Martin made the concept accessible to a younger audience. Mimi knew she was dying, and it’s implied that she just “let go.” That adds an undertone that death isn’t something sudden, even if it may seem like that to the loved ones. Death is something to be confronted.
Claudia’s human response of anger and a need to return to normal is true to the character and a different narrative. It contrasts with Mary Anne and Stacey, both of whom have the expected emotional response of sadness. It shows that there are several possible emotions surrounding death besides despair and that each reaction is valid.
However, I think there’s a real lack of cultural sensitivity in this book. Why wasn’t Mimi cremated? What was so funny about the restaurant scene? I saw a bunch of racists. Also, I don’t see much of Mimi within the funeral or the stories about her. They felt like stories that could be told about anyone – not just Mimi.
Maybe that was on purpose. Death is universal. Losing a loved one is universal. This last year, we’ve all had to confront loss and death in an unprecedented way. Maybe my criticisms that the book lacks specificity are shrouded in my recent contemplation of death, funeral rites, and if a memorial should be made for the dead, or should be made for the living. These are personal questions with no definite answers that are dependent on societal norms, cultural backgrounds, and personal tastes. They probably shouldn’t be explored in a silly essay that has a joke about the 1996 Democratic Convention in it. For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written, go toRereadingMyChildhood.com or followRereadMyChildhd on Twitter. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my websiteAmyACowan.com or follow my Twitter:amyacowan.
Logan Bruno and I have been off to a rocky start. He started out okay, but then he compared Mary Anne to other girls and generally disappoints me with his ambivalence toward Mary Anne. On top of all that, he’s barely a driving factor in her life. And that’s when he’s around, which is never. If every book didn’t start with a long description of each member, adding that Mary Anne’s boyfriend is named Logan, then I wouldn’t have any idea that Mary Anne is in a relationship. However, maybe it’s better if Logan isn’t an integral part of the series, considering his track record.
And it’s strange. I don’t remember having any disdain for Logan when I was a kid. He wasn’t my favorite of the BSC boyfriends, but I didn’t hate him. Maybe when I was a kid, the bar for men was so low that Satan himself could use it for pull-ups. Since then, the bar has been raised. Now it’s on the ground, but it’s still impossible for some men to hop the inch it takes to clear it.
Logan plays a significant role in The Baby-Sitters Club #25: Mary Anne and the Search for Tigger. That means he has another chance to justify himself to adult me and be the boy I remember from my childhood. Let’s hope Logan can climb his way out of hell and use that southern charm to get himself one inch into the air to get over that bar.
Mary Anne starts the novel at the pet store with Dawn. She is buying presents for her cat, Tigger. See, Tigger keeps losing toys behind the refrigerator, so the logical thing to do is buy the cat more toys. You know. To replace the ones behind the refrigerator? I think?
But it’s almost time for a BSC meeting, so the girls pay for their purchases and rush back to Mary Anne’s house before heading to Claudia’s house, where Mary Anne can tell us a little about the young artist.
Claud mixes and matches the weirdest stuff and comes up with the coolest outfits. Like a loose blouse with a fake coat of arms on it worn over a very short black skirt. Around her waist, a scarf. On her feet, short black boots. Dangling from her ears, dinosaurs. And her hair might be piled on top of her head and held in place with hairpins that look like seahorses. She combines all this stuff – and she looks fantastic.
Then Mary Anne calls Claudia’s room “a rat hole.” That’s needlessly harsh, Mary Anne. Maybe that “rat hole” has all the accessories she looks “fantastic” in.
Mary Anne doesn’t say it out loud, so this isn’t one of the books wherein the girls fight. That’s a firm check in the “plus” column. Instead, Logan calls! He needs a babysitter. See, he has engineered clones in his free time and they need a sitter while he’s speaking at the United Nations on the ethics of cloning. I’m kidding. He needs a sitter for his siblings, Hunter and Kerry because he joined the baseball team and can’t watch them. Mary Anne takes the job.
The next day, Logan and Mary Anne are outside of her house playing with Tigger and going over what Mary Anne needs to know about Logan’s siblings. Hunter is allergic to everything, which would make him a terrible hunter. Kerry is trying to prove she’s independent, which Logan thinks would end if she had more friends. Suddenly, Jamie appears to play with the cat. And then Myriah and Gabbie. And finally, we have Charlotte. And they all play with the cat, and Mary Anne tells us that Logan is good with kids and gorgeous.
You know what I still can’t figure out, though? I can’t figure out why Logan likes me. Why would any boy like shy me better than sophisticated, outgoing Claudia? Or self-assured Dawn?
Boys don’t like sophistication, otherwise, there wouldn’t be thirty-five-year-old men dating nineteen-year-olds. Boys also don’t like confidence, otherwise, again, there wouldn’t be thirty-five-year-old men dating nineteen-year-olds. And Logan shouldn’t make Mary Anne feel that way. What is he telling her? A boyfriend should give you the confidence to fight God and time like a JRPG character. They shouldn’t make you question your worthiness.
Before leaving for another BSC meeting, Mary Anne lets Tigger stay outside since he’s having so much fun. However, later that night, Tigger doesn’t appear for dinner – not even when Mary Anne calls for him, and he usually shows up when she calls him. Her father tells her that sometimes cats just disappear or take long naps outside and Tigger will be back the next day. Unfortunately, Mr. Spier is wrong. But there’s still hope and Mary Anne has to get to her baby-sitting job at the Brunos’.
Hunter is full of allergies and his room is an exercise in dander control. His room is so barren that his toys are kept in another room. The Brunos have made a rule that no one is to open Logan’s room because it’s so messy and could contaminate Hunter’s room. The Brunos doomed their kid when they named him “Hunter.” The only thing this kid is hunting for is an EpiPen.
Mary Anne plays “Vet’s Office” with the kids and later Kerry prepares a snack for all of them since she knows all of Hunter’s various allergies. When Mary Anne goes home, she hopes to see Tigger, safe and sound. But he’s not. It’s official – Tigger is missing.
Kristy calls for a patented BSC Emergency Meeting because Kristy won’t help unless she can do it with a gavel and Claudia’s room. The club is going to distribute posters around Stoneybrook. Kristy suggests they offer a reward. The girls pool their money together and, with the added funds from the club treasury, they can offer a thirty-dollar reward. That translates to $66 in today’s money. That’s a lot for a cat, especially when every person I know who has a cat says they just started feeding it one day when it snuck into the yard and they said to their roommate, “Hey, guess what? We have a cat now. His name is Quesalupa!”
Claudia designs the posters, including a life-like drawing of Tigger. The drawing is so good because Claudia asks Mary Anne to get every photo of Tigger she can find. Why they didn’t just use the photos, I have no idea. Claudia wants to draw something, so Claudia gets to draw something.
Meanwhile, Jessi is babysitting for her siblings, Becca and Squirt. They play some games and talk about how much Charlotte, Becca’s best friend, likes Tigger. Then they read that weird Baby Island book. Apparently, it’s the hottest book in Stoneybrook. Move over, Stephen King – this one-hundred-year-old book that doesn’t have a movie adaptation is coming for you!
The next day, Kristy has made copies of the posters and the entire BSC, including Logan, is ready to help Mary Anne.
“Now,” she began, “the idea is to paper the neighborhood. By tonight, there shouldn’t be a single person in this area who doesn’t know that Tigger is missing. I’ve got boxes of thumbtacks, and I want you to make sure you put a poster on every phone pole. Maybe two posters – front and back. Then stuff mailboxes. There are plenty of streets around here.”
I know how to litter, Kristy.
The girls split up. Logan says that Mary Anne is being dramatic and while a lost kitten is sad, she’s overreacting. Mary Anne doesn’t say anything back. Dump him, Mary Anne, and we’ll go get Baskin-Robbins. They have 31 flavors and Logan’s flavor is the insensitive Disney Channel antagonist.
As they’re putting up the posters, a ten-year-old boy walks up to Mary Anne.
“Is there really a reward?”
“Yup.”
“Well then, okay. Yester- um, no, let’s see. The day before yesterday I saw a – a gray kitten with tiger stripes.”
“That’s just like Tigger!” I cried.
Hey, Mary Anne, tell this boy to go back to the treehouse with the misspelled “No Girls Allowed” sign and get back to work.
“And he had short hair – I’m sure it was a he, not a she – and he was, oh, about fifteen inches long – I mean, including his tail. And, um, he answered to the name of Tigger.”
I wouldn’t know a female cat from a male cat, but Alfalfa here checked that cat’s genitals.
I looked suspiciously at the poster I’d just put up. “How did you know to call him Tigger?” I asked the boy.
“Because his name was on his collar?” he suggested.
I shook my head. “Sorry. He doesn’t wear a collar.”
The boy didn’t look a bit uncomfortable about having told a whopping lie. “What’s the reward for?” he wanted to know. “For information leading to finding this cat or something?”
“No,” I said crossly. “For finding him. For putting him in my hands.”
Now stop talking to wandering children and get to breaking up with Logan, er, looking for Tigger.
The next day, Mary Anne rushes to her mailbox and it contains a letter for her! But there’s no return address. People keep sending her troubling things in the mail. You’d think she would stop checking. Anyway, the letter contains a handwritten note.
If you want to see your cat alive again, leave $100 in an envelope on the big rock in Brenner Field at 4:00 tomorrow afternoon.
She takes the letter to the BSC, which springs into action with a plan. Only Claudia and Mallory entertain the idea that it’s fake. Logan says that Mary Anne is acting like “a girl” and Mary Anne finally says that it’s okay to be sensitive and she is a girl. Claudia lives on the second floor, Mary Anne should defenestrate Logan. (Let me just check that word off my “Words To Use” list.)
But we can’t throw him out yet – he comes up with a brilliant plan! What is this plan? They’re going to put Monopoly money in an envelope, leave it on the “big rock,” and then watch the rock to see who retrieves the money. Huh. It took seven of you to come up with this plan?
Before the BSC can enact their plan, Dawn has a baby-sitting job at the Barretts’. Buddy is worried about their basset hound and vows to protect the dog from would-be thieves. Eventually, the kids need to go to sleep. Buddy stays up watching a show called Dragon Warriors, which is not real. There is a real show called Dragon Warrior: Legend of the Hero Abel, but unless Buddy is exceptionally worldly, there’s no way he watches a Japanese show wherein only thirteen out of forty-three episodes were dubbed and released in America. Eventually, he goes to sleep and there is no more television talk.
It’s finally time for that great caper that Logan concocted. Everything goes according to plan. Soon, a figure arrives, takes the envelope, and books it. The BSC chases the figure down. It’s a kid. In fact, it’s that Alfalfa punk who thinks about animal genitals from before. And, to no one’s surprise, he doesn’t have Tigger – he just wanted money. Logan makes up some stuff about felonies and that the kid could go to jail for twenty-five to fifty years. Sure, but if the kid is white, he’ll get probation and a swimming scholarship. Anyway, the kid runs away but Mary Anne is still missing one cat.
Claudia babysits for the Perkins girls, and they are going to look for Tigger themselves. But first, they have to sing Christmas carols and “Blue Suede Shoes” by Elvis. There are some great late ‘80s songs, but these kids are going to sing Elvis – a man who died in 1977. Then the girls play “Hawaiian detective” and Tom Selleck all over the neighborhood while Claudia contemplates death.
Once again, Mary Anne is baby-sitting the Brunos. She makes a shocking discovery in Kerry’s room. In Kerry’s closet, in a box, is none other than Tigger! What is going on?
“I – I just found him,” replied Kerry. “And I didn’t know he was Tigger then. Honest. I was riding my bike home last Friday and it was getting dark. Remember? The weather wasn’t very nice that day. And I was a few houses away from Mary Anne’s and I thought I saw something shiny on the side of the road. So I stopped. And it was this kitten. Its eyes were shining. I thought, Poor kitty, no one’s taking care of you. So I just put him in my bike basket and rode him home. I wanted to have a friend. And I wanted to show you and Daddy that I could care for a pet. I really am responsible enough to do that. Look how well I cared for Tigger.”
And then she kept it to prove that she can have a pet if it stays in her room, away from Hunter and his allergies. Mary Anne takes her cat and goes home.
Logan and Mary Anne have a chat later. He’s been testy because he’s about to be kicked off the baseball team. His coach doesn’t like him and Logan is trying to improve, but it’s failing and Logan isn’t getting any better. Mary Anne gives him snacks and stays with him, which is annoying.
If Logan can’t step over a bar on the ground, then it’s no wonder he’s a terrible baseball player. He demeans Mary Anne’s anguish over losing her cat. He says that acting like a girl is a bad thing. When it turns out his little sister has stolen his girlfriend’s cat, he’s pretty damn nonchalant, and he doesn’t give Mary Anne the confidence she clearly needs.
I have only watched the first season of the excellent Netflix show at the time of writing this, so I hope the showrunners redeem this boy, because I’m losing my patience for Logan. He’s a terrible boyfriend and Mary Anne should dump him. She should go out with Kristy. At least Kristy can play baseball.
For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written, go toRereadingMyChildhood.com or followRereadMyChildhd on Twitter. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my websiteAmyACowan.com or follow my Twitter:amyacowan.
I like dogs. I’ve always liked dogs. They’re sweet and caring and I take them as proof that if God exists, she’s a benevolent goddess and wants us to be happy because she put dogs on this earth. However, we do not deserve them. We do stupid shit, like elect leaders the same way we choose our favorite football team. It’s not who has the best ideas that will help the most people – it’s which side they are on. They would rather stick it to the liberals even though the liberals have better policies to help their families and themselves. Also, liberals are open to using they/them pronouns, and apparently, that’s a problem for some inconceivable reason.
Dogs and elections collide in The Baby-Sitters Club #22: Jessi Ramsey, Pet-Sitter. While our favorite ballerina is tackling a sitting job more akin to the National Zoo than the office daycare center, the BSC is engaging in the democratic process. Because they’re fighting. Again. Oh boy, here we go.
The Mancusis call the BSC hoping to book a sitter for a full week. The catch is that they don’t need a sitter for children – they need a sitter for a house full of animals! They reject the job because Kristy had a bad experience with animals in the first BSC book and the book is over!
I’m kidding, of course. Jessi takes the job, just like the title says. The Braddocks, her usual baby-sitting charges, are on vacation and Jessi doesn’t have ballet practice all this week, so she’s free and needs a job. However, Kristy almost rejects the job because of her bad experience, leading the club to question if Kristy’s bossiness is a detriment to the club.
The next day, Jessi arrives at the Mancusis’ house to meet all the animals. She does not describe the smell, but I imagine it is powerful. The Mancusis have three dogs (Cheryl, Pooh Bear, and Jacques), five cats (Crosby, Powder, Ling-Ling, Tom, and Rosie), a bunch of birds that are usually allowed to just fly around the house (but they won’t for that week, much to Jessi’s relief), a parrot named Frank who repeats commercials, hamsters, two guinea pigs (Lucy and Ricky), some fish and rabbits, and the pièce de résistance – Barney the snake. No shenanigans will happen with the snake, I’m sure. Not surprisingly, Jessi takes on the challenge with aplomb and her signature grace.
The next day, as Jessi starts her new job, Claudia brings Jamie Newton and Nina Marshall over to gawk at the animals in the world’s cheapest zoo. I know the National Zoo is free, but they charge you five dollars for a map whereas the Zoo Mancusi has an eleven-year-old. This does not stop Jamie Newton from freaking out when he sees the guinea pigs, claiming they are from space. Jessi suggests they all walk the dogs together to distract Jamie from the space creatures from Quizno’s.
While walking the dogs, they encounter Chewy, the Perkinses’ dog. He had gotten loose while the Perkinses were gone, so he joins the walk and they chase squirrels. Luckily, by the time they circle around back to the Perkins residence, the Perkinses are home and relieved to see Chewy.
When they get back to the Mancusi residence, Jessi sees that one of the hamsters is curled up in the corner, refusing to move. I’m sure this will have no effect on the plot.
During the next BSC meeting, Kristy barks orders at everyone, and everyone is arguing yet again. This time, it’s about Kristy being very Kristy and how complicated everyone’s individual job is. Kristy thinks this is a great time to roll out her new idea:
“To make sure that each of you is reading the notebook once a week, I’m going to draw up a checklist. Every Monday, in order to show me you’ve been keeping up with the notebook, you’ll initial a box on the chart.”
And then they argue about the checklist. The arguing changes a bit when Claudia complains about taking calls during non-BSC meeting hours. Mary Anne is tired of scheduling and Dawn doesn’t like collecting dues. Jessi and Mallory refuse to take sides and later they worry about the future of the club. Since there are one hundred more books in the mainline series, I don’t think you’ll have to worry, girls, but now I’m meta-reading.
During Mary Anne’s baby-sitting job at the Perkinses, they go over to Zoo Mancusi, because why not? Finally, Chekov’s gun has gone off – Barney is missing from his cage! Myriah took the top of his cage off while the others pondered the fat, immobile hamster. They figure that he went outside since he’s cold-blooded. They trap him in an extra aquarium, slip some cardboard under, and plop him back into his home. Crisis averted, metals all around.
It’s Wednesday, so it’s time for another BSC meeting! And I can finally announce the long-awaited comeback of “What’s Claudia Wearing???”
Claudia was wearing another of her great outfits. This one consisted of an oversized, short-sleeved cotton shirt with gigantic leaves painted all over it, green leggings – the same green as the leaves on her shirt – bright yellow push-down socks, her purple high-tops, and in her hair a headband with a gigantic purple bow attached to one side.
I’m not a big fan of the green/purple color combination (mostly because of its internet meme connection), but an oversized shirt, leggings, and high-tops is still a good look.
When Kristy arrives at the meeting, she puts her checklist over Claudia’s pictures of Stacey. Claudia snatches the checklist off, Kristy snatches it back and puts it up again. This goes on until the checklist rips in half. Kristy reminds everyone that she’s the president which prompts Claudia to call for an election.
Jessi and Mallory try to stay quiet, and after the meeting, they once again express their concerns about the stability of the club.
The next day at the Mancusi’s, Becca and Mallory come with Jessi. Becca wants to play with the animals and Mallory wants to discuss the elections. They feed the animals, walk the dogs, and Mallory says that the election makes her uncomfortable. There are no problems and we are moving on.
Meanwhile, Kristy sits for Jackie Radowsky. Since everyone in Stoneybrook is psychically linked, Jackie’s class is holding elections for various classroom duties, including “blackboard-washer, messenger, roll-taker.” The most coveted role is taking care of the class pet Snowball, which is what Jackie is running for. However, he doesn’t think he’s going to win because he’s up against Adrienne Garvey.
“Well, she never erased holes into her workbook pages, and she never gets dirty, even in art class. And she always finishes her work on time. And she never forgets her lunch or trips or spills or anything!”
Oh, Jackie, if competency was a requirement for winning an election, we wouldn’t have had a crime-family run carte blanche with our sacred institutions. What you need is a cult that will believe everything you say with some propaganda help from Mark Zuckerberg and Facebook.
Anyway, Kristy instructs him to prove his responsibility and campaign for the role. She tells him to put on a nice shirt and write speeches. Later, while he is trying to prove that responsibility, he spills some dog food and wants to clean it up, but Kristy doesn’t let him. He tells Kristy that she’s a “bossy baby-sitter.”
“You buttoned my shirt when I wanted to do it myself, you wouldn’t let me vacuum up the mess I made, and now you’re going to plan my campaign for-”
Jackie is distracted and forgets what he was talking about, but it sticks with Kristy. She wonders if she’s really as bossy as everyone insists. Well, yeah, Kristy. It’s your whole personality. Bossy and sporty. It’s like you don’t even read the beginning.
The next meeting is grim. The club goes over the rules for the upcoming election with the level of precision usually reserved for fighter pilot safety checks. Mary Anne cries. Jessi and Mallory worry about the club again.
On the day of the elections, one of the hamsters is acting weird. Jessi calls her mom and they take it to the vet. While waiting for the vet, Jessi realizes that she won’t be able to make the elections. Luckily, this issue is no big deal because Kristy offers to move the elections to the next day. We almost had a conflict there! See, it really didn’t have any effect on the plot.
Turns out the hamster is pregnant. Jessi is quite excited about the new little hamsters. The book conveniently glosses over the fact that the hamster will probably eat most of them later in the dead of the night, so Jessi shouldn’t be quick to pick out her favorite one. Maybe give it a few days.
Before the BSC conducts elections, they talk about the hamsters. But it’s no time for frivolity – we have an election to hold! Who will be the new president? Will Claudia, the worst at math, be the treasurer in honor of Stacey?
None of that. Nothing changes. Everyone votes for the same people to have the same position as before. The club thinks this is hilarious. I am ambivalent because I am more focused on the pregnant hamsters and problematic cat names.
Everything goes back to normal, but Becca gets to keep one of the surviving hamsters – her first pet! The Mancusis were quite pleased with Jessi’s baby-sitting performance, which is no surprise given that Jessi is one of the most competent characters in this series.
I still have a problem with the books that revolve around the BSC’s infighting – it’s a tired trope perpetuated by terrible men who want to see us women tear each other apart. That being said, I can’t hate this one. It has a lot going for it: 1) it has cute animals, 2) Jessi and Mallory don’t argue, and 3) it’s about Jessi. And let’s face it: Jessi is the most pleasant one.
For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I have written, go to RereadingMyChildhood.com or follow RereadMyChildhd on Twitter. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my website AmyACowan.com or follow my Twitter: amyacowan.
My sister and I are only separated by a year and because we are so close in age, sometimes relatives gave us matching gifts, particularly for Christmas. One year we each received a Mighty Morphin Power Rangers stuffed doll, and in a different year, we received matching baskets of goodies. We even had matching furry white coats that made us look like Frosty the Snowman’s illegitimate children with a She-bear.
However, not all the gifts were so innocuous. One year, my grandmother paid someone in her retirement community to paint our faces on sweatshirts – and she gave him our school pictures. And not just any school picture – the school picture in which I braided my hair into tight curls and wore a cowboy-style shirt with fringe. Utterly mortifying. If only I had the sense of humor I have now. I’d save the sweatshirt and eventually turn it into a throw pillow.
I imagine this problem would be worse for twins. Not the horrifying picture of my own painted, curled visage smiling awkwardly from my chest – but the identical gifts. It seems to imply that you’re not two separate people but one duplex of a person.
In The Baby-Sitters Club #21: Mallory and the Trouble With Twins, the BSC has a new client who is aggravating the club, but Mallory is up to the challenge. Or is she? (Of course, she is, but let’s pretend to have some suspense, huh? It’s a kids’ book from 1989, calm down, dude. Sheesh.)
What if the secret is that they’re not even twins, but Mrs. Arnold told them they were twins so she could have matching kids?
Mallory Pike, the ginger-est, blindest, and braces-ist of the Baby-Sitters Club, wants to get her ears pierced. This seemed to be a common plot point of late-’80s to early-’90s culture. The sheer act of getting your ears pierced seemed to signal some serious maturing for parents. There’s an episode of Full House wherein Danny Tanner doesn’t want her daughter, Stephanie Tanner, to get her ears pierced, so she lets Kimmy Gibbler do it and it gets infected. And there’s an episode of The Simpsons in which Homer gets angry after Bart gets an earring. Now, as I am doing a rewatch of every Degrassi episode, Ellie comes in with holes all over her body and Sean has both his ears pierced. I remember getting my ears pierced when I was, like, five at the Claire’s. It seems that ear piercing is not the direct stripper pole straight to hell after all.
But I digress. Mallory wants pierced ears and her parents think she’s too young. Or, she assumes her parents won’t allow pierced ears – she hasn’t asked them.
After the obligatory pages describing each babysitter (including referring to Claudia as “exotic” with “almond-shaped eyes” – oof), and pages explaining how the club works, we have a meeting. And surprise! Logan is there. It makes the girls nervous as if they’ve never seen Logan before. I feel like he’s been around enough that they should be used to having him there. I remember the boys I was friends with in middle school – at some point, they’re barely visible.
During the meeting, Mrs. Arnold, the mother of twin girls, Carolyn and Marilyn, needs a steady sitter while she works on a fundraising campaign for Stoneybrook Elementary. Of course, our favorite redhead takes the job.
Mallory arrives at the Arnold household and the twins are dressed in identical outfits – down to the haircuts. They are wearing bracelets with their names on them, but the bracelets match (except the name printed on them). Mrs. Arnold herself is quite a fussy woman, wearing matching bows in her hair, shirt, belt, and shoes. There will be no pattern mixing in her house!
When Mrs. Arnold leaves, Mallory offers the girls her Kid-Kit. Carolyn chooses to play with some puzzles while Marilyn chooses some books, including a book called Baby Island, which is real and not just a bad sitcom with one season from the ‘90s.
Mallory remarks that the twins are cute and “look like bookends.” This prompts the twins to speak to each other in their “twin language,” which is just nonsense and they try to trick Mallory by removing their name bracelets. However, it’s time for Marilyn to practice the piano and Mallory is finally able to tell which one is Marilyn until the end of her job.
It’s another day and Mallory is back at the Arnold residence. This time, Mallory plays hide-and-seek with the girls. When Mallory finds one, she asks for a snack. Mallory obliges and goes to search for the other one. She finds one and Marilyn-or-Carolyn asks for a snack. Mallory obliges again and asks where the other one is. It seems she either hid again or is still hiding. Mallory finds another one and they ask for a snack. Mallory declines.
“There are two of you and I gave out two snacks. That’s it. No more.”
“No more? No fair!”
“It’s very fair. Two twins, two snacks. I think you guys just fooled yourselves.”
Then they go into their twin language. When it’s time for Marilyn to practice the piano, Carolyn reads a Paddington book and they both ignore Mallory until their mother comes home.
Now it’s time for a different sitter to confront the Arnold twins – Claudia. This time, Mrs. Arnold has some special instructions.
“Marilyn’s piano lesson is at eleven-thirty,” Mrs. Arnold told Claud. “Her carpool will arrive at eleven o’clock. She’s going to be in a recital next week, and today is a special rehearsal and lesson. It’ll last an hour and a half. She’ll be dropped off here around one-thirty. While Mariyln’s gone, Carolyn should work on her project for the science fair. Carolyn just loves science, don’t you, dear?”
Claudia can’t tell the difference between the twins, but one of them leaves with the carpool. A few moments later, Claudia gets a phone call. It’s the music teacher and she has “a very tone-deaf Arnold twin” and asks if Claudia can get the other one there. Claudia can’t drive, so Carolyn just has to stay there until the carpool can bring her back.
When Mrs. Arnold comes back, she scolds the girls for playing a prank on their sitter, but she also scolds Claudia and Claudia has to go without pay. Okay, Mrs. Arnold, it was your horrid twins who played a prank – it wasn’t Claudia’s fault. You should have to pay her double.
The BSC has a meeting, but before they can discuss the twins, Mallory obsesses over everyone’s clothes. Claudia dressed surprisingly toned down – a t-shirt she painted herself and come capris. Dawn is wearing an oversized blue shirt and if a girl from the ‘80s thinks it’s oversized, it must be able to house a small family and guinea pig. Mary Anne is the one whose outfit is, well, quote-worthy.
Mary Anne was wearing a short plum-colored skirt over a plum-and-white-striped body suit. The legs of the body suit stopped just above her ankles, and she’d tucked the bottoms into her socks. I don’t know where her shoes were. She’d taken them off. The neat thing about her outfit was that she was wearing white suspenders with her skirt.
After that, they talk about the Arnolds, but nothing that we didn’t already know. They speak in a twin language. They look identical. But Carolyn likes science and Marilyn plays the piano, so they’re not completely the same.
Another day, another adventure with the Arnold twins. This time, whenever the twins speak in their twin language, Mallory responds with Pig Latin, which confounds the twins. Their minds are blown. Mallory promises to teach them if they stop speaking their twin language around her and put their name bracelets on – properly. They strike a deal.
In a moment of verisimilitude, the twins lament that no one can tell them apart. They show Mallory their one key difference: Carolyn has a mole under her left eye. Marilyn’s mole under her right eye.
At the end of the sitting job, Mrs. Arnold asks if the BSC would be willing to watch over the twins’ birthday party. Mallory promises to bring it up at the next meeting. As she’s leaving, the girls call “Ood-gay eye-bay!” instead of their twin language, and Mallory is pleased with herself.
We switch to Kristy watching over her siblings Karen, David Michael, and Andrew. The chapter starts with a long explanation of what an estate sale is because we couldn’t leave it at “Mrs. Thomas and Watson are gone.” They’re going to an estate sale! Promise! Just a plain ol’ estate sale. What is an estate sale? Let me tell you in excruciating detail. I know all about those sales because I’m going to one. I’m not going to a secret island where we hunt the poors for sport! I’m going to an estate sale, which is something I know all about.
Karen and David Michael invite the Papadakis kids over. Meanwhile, Andrew needs to learn lines for a school play about a circus. However, Andrew doesn’t want to be in this play.
“But I don’t want to be in it,” replied Andrew, and his lower lip began to quiver. “I don’t want everyone looking at me and listening to me.”
“But you know what they’ll probably be thinking while you’re doing that?”
“What?”
“They’ll probably be thinking, What a good bear that Andrew makes. He knows his lines so well. I bet he worked very hard.”
“What if I forget my lines? Then what will they be thinking?”
“They’ll be thinking, Oh, too bad. He forgot his lines. Well, that happens sometimes. He still looks like a very nice, smart boy.”
Sure, Kristy. That’s what they’ll be saying. If you wanted to motivate him, you should have told him the truth: if he remembers his lines and just says them, the second he’s done, they’ll pay attention to the next kid; if he forgets his lines, they’ll remember him and use him as an example of why you should learn your damn lines.
While Andrew works on learning his lines, David Michael reads “Basho-Man” comics with Linny Papadakis. I think it’s lovely that the kids are getting into a comic book series about an Edo period Japanese haiku poet. Instead of reading poetry, which I’m assuming these comics are about, Karen and Hannie dress up identically and say they’re twins because the kids in this town are suspiciously in tune with the A storyline.
As for the party, of course, the BSC helps with the Arnold twins’ birthday. Although, I guess it’s just Mary Anne, Dawn, and Mallory. When Mallory discovered the mole difference, she started noticing other differences between the twins. Marilyn’s nose is rounder and Carolyn’s cheeks are fuller. She also noticed the personality differences between the two.
After the games, they open presents and every gift the twins receive comes in a pair. A pair of Raggedy Ann dolls. A pair of stuffed elephants. A pair of the complete second season of Designing Women on DVD. The girls are not particularly happy. That is until they get to Mallory’s gifts.
They were not the same size or shape. They were wrapped in different paper. The twins looked intrigued.
“Is this a mistake?” asked Carolyn.
“Who are they from?” asked Marilyn.
“Me,” I replied. “Go on. Open them.”
So they did. I’d picked out a tiny pin in the shape of a piano for Marilyn, and a book of simple science experiments for Carolyn.
“Boy, thanks!” cried the girls enthusiastically. They absolutely beamed at me.
But the twins are only allowed to be individuals momentarily because the cake has their identical faces on it and they blow out the identical candles at the same time.
The next time Mallory sits for the twins, they show her some of the other gifts they received. Despite their sets of identical dollhouses, socks, and jumping sticks (I didn’t make up that last one), their favorite gifts were the ones from Mallory because they were different.
Mallory tells them about her triplet brothers. She says that they don’t dress the same, they act differently, and they don’t get three copies of everything. Mallory apologizes for calling the twins cute bookends when they met. The twins apologize for antagonizing Mallory and the other sitters.
The twins, with the support of Mallory, speak to their mother when she gets home.
“Different,” spoke up Marilyn. “But we look alike and dress alike, so everyone treats us like one person – the same person.”
“And we aren’t one person, Mommy!” said Carolyn desperately. “We’re two. Only no one knows it. At school, the kids call both of us ‘Marilyn-or-Carolyn.”
I cringed, remembering that that was how I used to think of the girls.
“We hate it!” added Marilyn.
“The girls do look sweet in their matching outfits,” I said, “but,” I added quickly as Carolyn poked me in the ribs, “they’ve told me they think they’re old enough to choose their own clothes. They have different tastes.”
“If we went to school looking different,” said Marilyn, “maybe the kids would get to know who we are.”
Their mother agrees to let them use their birthday money to get new clothes and haircuts. Before we get to the shopping montage, bolstered by the twins’ success, Mallory has to speak with her parents.
After a lengthy explanation of negotiation, Mallory asks for a new wardrobe, her ears pierced, a new haircut, and contact lenses. They say she’s not old enough for contacts and they don’t have enough money for a new wardrobe (she didn’t really want those two – they were tokens for negotiation). She can get her ears pierced as long as she pays for it herself and she does the aftercare so they don’t get infected. She can get her hair cut as long as she doesn’t get a “green mohawk” and she has to go to a “salon downtown.” A green mohawk can be adorable, but I guess I’m biased as a member of the blue hair club.
We finally get our shopping montage with the twins and Mallory. They talk about how expensive clothes are and I wondered why they didn’t go to an outlet mall. Too good to be a Maxxinista?
Mallory buys matching book earrings for her and Jessi. I guess we’re not done with the identical gift motif. In the end, the girls show off their new looks to their mother, who is surprised but open-minded.
A few days later, Mallory is back at the mall with the rest of the BSC. Not only is Mallory going to get her ears pierced, but Jessi is going to get pierced ears also, Claudia is getting a third hole, and Dawn is getting a second hole. The lady at Claire’s just puts them on a lazy Susan and shoots their ears as they spin around in a circle. Just kidding. She does it normally. And the book doesn’t explicitly say it’s a Claire’s, but we all know it’s a Claire’s. So in the end, both the Arnold twins and Mallory get to show off more of their individuality. Every kid has to go through this – when you have to convince your parents to give up some of their autonomy so you can pick out what you want. Even though every kid can relate on some level, being twins exacerbates the situation. If every Christmas my sister and I got the same gifts, I’d go insane also. Especially since her gifts were more of the Barbie variety and all I wanted were books about hostage-level parental negotiations and estate sales.
For a list of every Baby-Sitters Club, Goosebumps, and Fear Street book review I’ve done, go to RereadingMyChildhood.com or follow RereadMyChildhd on Twitter. For more information about me, Amy A. Cowan, visit my website AmyACowan.com or follow my Twitter: amyacowan.
Mind Full of Marbles 