Previously: A crazy long time ago, we read a book in which the GWC used homelessness as a prop for contrivance, because they’re classy like that.
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Sweeney: IT’S A BSC POST. WUT? I know. Madness. I don’t know why I’m doing this myself either, except that I was recently (LOL, I started writing this two months ago, so, uh, “recently”) reminded of how much fun it is to hate Kristy Thomas.
Lorraine: No, but seriously. Sweeney told me there was a Baby-sitters post ready for comments, and it took me a moment to remember what that even meant.
Sweeney: On that note, the book begins with this:
“You know,” said Kristy Thomas, “I have never been hit in the face with a pie.”
I can’t even make any great jokes about all the things I’d love to throw at her besides a pie because she’s thirteen and even more than she’s an obnoxious little shit, she’s just really boring. Apparently she’s thinking about this because she has this dream of wearing food. It’s really weird, particularly since Claudia is narrating and Claudia is definitely the BSC member most likely to wear a Lady Gaga Meat Dress, but whatever.
Claudia goes on to share all the super boring stuff we already know about the club. They’re all currently at a free “slapstick movie marathon” at the local library which does not sound like a thing that happens, but the early ’90s were a different time, so whatever. Sure. While this is going on, though, she’s introducing all the members of the club by way of sharing their respective sob stories — Kristy’s divorced parents and deadbeat biological father, Mary Anne’s dead mom, Dawn’s divorced parents, Mallory’s first world tween problems which are basically that she wants to not be an infant, and Jessi’s being black.
Stoneybrook is a million times better than Sweet Valley when it comes to race, but the Ghost Writing Collective [GWC] still talks about it in a way that is so forced and so clearly written specifically for little white girls in cloistered, homogeneous towns that it’s hard to take.
Lor: I’m not entirely following WHY we’re introducing them via their issues? Like, one of the last BSC books I read for the site introduced them via the big things that happened to them over the summer. We went from Mary Anne getting a cat to her mom dying by way of introduction. Cool.
Sweeney: I have no explanation for this decision. You would think that it would signal that we’re going to deal with a kid who has some legit traumatic issues, but no such issues ever discussed in the book, making this nothing but a weird and nonsensical way to do the introduction game.
Anyway, now that we’ve met the one-dimensional characters, we must re-learn about their club and their jobs and the awful notebook that we’ll have to read pages from throughout the book. Then a meeting takes place and it’s pretty much exactly as Lor described it in an email to me: “Then the phone rang and that job went to Claudia. Then the phone rang again and that job went to Mary Anne. Then the phone rang…zzzz.“
At the end of the chapter, a new client calls and Claudia is free to take the job, so we have our Plot Kid of the book. Plot Kid’s name is Betsy Sobak. In case reading the title of the book weren’t sufficient to set up Plot Kid’s plot, Kristy gets ink all over Mary Anne’s brand new white sweater before laughing as they see that it is disappearing ink. Kristy is playing stupid pranks. Plot Kid will be playing stupid pranks. Huzzah. Also, fuck you Kristy Thomas. I would murder your face off for even pretending to ruin my new white sweater.
Lor: Yeah, no, fuck you. Even if the ink “disappears” you are still spilling stuff all over my sweater. She sucks.
Sweeney: The next chapter begins with a really bleak portrait of Dawn’s life — she never wants to be home since her brother ditched her for dad and her mom is never there, because when she’s not working, she’s off with her douchebag not-Papa-Spier boyfriend. I just have some Dawn feels. I know that it’s hard to take me seriously, since I just threatened murder to a fictional tween over a fictional sweater that was probably tacky anyway, but I just love Dawn and her weird stringy white hair and pseudo-environmentalism.
Lor: This just makes me feel awkward because I got pretty invested in that sweater thing too. Hmmph.
Sweeney: Back at her own home, Claudia is awkwardly introducing us to Mimi’s stroke. It has been so long since we read these books that I’m getting feelsy over this too, because I remember Mimi’s stroke being a devastating moment in my childhood. I was terrified that my grandparents were all perpetually on the verge of a stroke, even though I didn’t entirely understand what it was. Claudia explains that this, rather than her being born in Japan, is why she “talks funny.“
All this condescension is pervasive in these books and it’s frustrating. We used to be all, “Kids are dumb, yo!” but I know middle schoolers. My cousins that are several younger these girls are smarter and have more tact than this. In their quest to write “young” the GWC has basically just elected to write like morons. It’s still infinitely better than a certain other author, but it’s annoying.
Claudia’s epic brilliant sister Janine comes home. Claudia’s narration is always filled with a lot of hate for her sister, due primarily to her sister knowing how to spell better than a fifth grader, something Claudia may never achieve. She gets hilariously snarky, though, when she has to tell her family about the B- she got on a math quiz and adeptly turns the subject to Janine’s school research which Claudia gives no fucks about, but knows will get a long-winded response so that she can tune out and going back to thinking about all the things she can attach to paper clips and wear as earrings. Or something like that.
Lor: A girl’s gotta accessorize her meat dress!
Sweeney: After dinner Mimi helps Claudia with her homework and I almost want to start weeping with joy because Claudia’s actually discussing the books she’s reading in school. It’s not a really intense conversation because it has no real plot significance or purpose but I don’t even care because it’s been so long since we’ve blogged about a character who actually reads books instead of naming books! It’s a beautiful thing.
She goes up to her room, relieved to spend some time with her pastels. She gets a call from her fellow artsy friend who I vaguely remember being a mega bitch a few books ago. Then she gets a really failtastic prank call, and she’s super displeased that prank season has begun. I didn’t know prank season was a thing, but apparently it is and it has begun. Naturally the next chapter begins with a bunch of friends who aren’t members of the BSC and, as such, have never existed before and will never exist again, tell Claudia that the job she just took is for “an incurable practical joker” who nobody will ever sit for ever again.
Besty Sobak’s mother’s name is Cookie, which sounds like a joke in and of itself. Claudia initially thinks Betsy is totes adorbz and can’t possibly be a problem which is reminder #842 that she will absolutely be a problem. Betsy pulls a prank immediately which ends in Claudia getting stuff all over her own shmancy white shirt that she cares about oh-so-much and has to be dry cleaned. I have no idea why everyone is wearing so much white, but, more importantly, why the hell would you wear a nice, valuable, dry-clean-only shirt to a babysitting job? Particularly after you’ve been warned that this kid is big on practical jokes? Sorry, Claudia, no pity for you. You’re an idiot.
Lor: Ah, and so comes our reminder that she’s also a baby watching a baby. Babies don’t think about laundry.
Sweeney: A valid observation.
Besty pulls another fast one on Claudia, offering her gum, but keeping the trick gum for herself, knowing that Claudia would make her trade. Not going to lie, I laughed. Betsy’s infinitely more clever than Claudia and I appreciate it, even if she is a mega brat. Unfortunately, I must now eat those words, because after some more pranking, Betsy gets Claudia on a swingset that she has somehow unhinged or something and Claudia starts swinging and eventually it breaks, so she breaks her leg.
Lor: Well, shit.
Sweeney: Betsy freaks, because apparently she thought that Claudia would just sit down and it would break, but when that didn’t happen and Claudia started swinging and suggesting a contest, she just totes forgot. Mmhmm. Whatever, Betsy. Claudia’s giving Betsy instructions about people she has to call, because life was hard before cellphones or even, apparently, cordless phones. Worst. In the event that Betsy can’t reach either of her parents, Claudia wants her to call the Rodowsky house, where two other BSC girls are sitting. It’s great because Claudia tries to spell the last name and can’t get past the letter R. Betsy cuts her off all, “Bitch, please, we both know I can spell better than you.” I mean, not like that, because she’s a terrified little kid who just broke someone’s leg, but basically that’s how it happened.
Anyway, obviously the Negligent Parents of the Book were nowhere to be found. This book isn’t even about their negligence, but it’s Stoneybrook, so we have to throw that in there. Dawn and Mallory come to help/collect Betsy, riding up the street on their bicycles with their army of babysitting charges riding behind them, so that this army of children are going to magic Claudia’s bone back together. Or, rather, because Dawn’s a good friend because she’s totes the best. (I own my biases.)
Lor: “We’re here! We’ve brought our bikes and 11 children. How’s your leg feel?” I don’t know. I think I’d kick my BF with my good leg.
Sweeney: Shhhhh…
Once Dawn calls Claudia’s parents, who are going to meet the ambulance at the hospital, she has a less winning idea: she’s going to leave the army of children — whose parents had left them with a total of three babysitters — in the care of just one, the eleven-year-old. I mean, snaps for being a good friend, but also, probably not A+ babysitting game.
Betsy sobs apologies as Claudia’s ambulance door closes, because of having recently broken someone’s leg. In the ambulance, Claudia’s sobbing because she hasn’t been to the hospital since Mimi’s stroke. Mimi Feels Break.
Lor:
Sweeney: They inject Claudia with something as soon as she reaches the hospital and she wakes up in a hospital bed, with her leg in a cast and held up. She’s asking her parents all sorts of questions, as they have arrived. They tell her that she’ll be in the hospital for a week and she’ll get to miss school, but not even school-hating Claudia can appreciate that, because a week in the hospital sounds awful. Annoying Janine’s all, “But you’ll get attention because you have friends. I would love attention! And friends.” Something like that. Awkward, but mostly, “STFU, you’re not the one with the broken leg.”
Somewhere in here they mention that the healing process will be 2-3 months and that’s hilarious because when you consider that they spend over 100 books in the 8th grade, she should be in that cast for a good 30 books, but I’m certain that won’t happen. Long ago we talked about trying to keep a timeline of the passage of days in these books, just to demonstrate that it makes no sense, but that sounded like a lot of effort.
Lor: Also, considering it takes us more than 2-3 months to cover CT books, I don’t think we should be expected to remember what day it supposedly is from book to book. All you need to know is that they are still in the 8th grade.
Sweeney: Claudia’s moving quickly through her stages of grief over the broken leg and now she’s angry with everyone. Betsy I get, but then it becomes Kristy’s fault for starting the BSC, which, all right, makes no sense, but I’m on board with Kristy-hating. Hilariously, she ends this diatribe with, “What was wrong with all of us? Couldn’t we see how stupid we were?” LOLOLOL.
Claudia gets lots of visitors and it’s boring. She goes off on a weird tangent about how her losery 14-year-old roommate Cathy doesn’t get any visitors because she sucks and Claudia couldn’t imagine anyone being friends with her anyway and her parents probably secretly hate her. Claudia decides that her great act of charity will be having one of her many bouquets regifted to Losery Cathy. She’s not sure if that would be awkward, but her mom says it’s better to ask now, in front of all those people because then she can’t say no. She can just, you know, silently wear the humiliation in front of this room full of strangers while she’s incapacitated and can’t leave. Great thinking, Mama Kishi. (L: A+)
More visitors. Mary Anne smuggles her kitten in there, but it surprisingly does not murder Claudia’s face off. Stacey calls and we have the dramatic chapter-ending curbhanger of, “Babysitting is super dangerous, so I might quit the BSC.” That’s this book’s drama, btw. We’re only halfway through and the “plot” isn’t about her broken leg, it’s “WILL CLAUDIA QUIT?” To be fair, the book warned me on the back cover.
Another chapter begins with a boring BSC Notebook entry, between Jessi and Mary Anne, who co-sat for the Pike kids who also pulled many pranks because of that library film festival that apparently everyone in Stoneybrook attended because there is all of nothing to do there. The girls pranked the kids which supposedly embarrassed them into giving up on pranks 4eva.
Lor: Legit baby-sitting skills. I bet if a kid bites them, they bite back.
Sweeney: Claudia finally gets home and everyone is super nice and helpful. Mimi got her a Nancy Drew book (L: CROSSOVER MAGIC.) and makes her good food (although, anti-junk-food Dawn totes brought Claudia junk food in the hospital, due to her general excellence) and Janine bought her trashy magazines without even making a disgusted face. Claudia’s homeroom adorably conspired to call her and spend the whole homeroom period welcoming her back. I won’t even snark that because it’s cute.
But alone time makes Claudia think about her great dilemma, which is that she loves being a member of the club, but she has Babysitting Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Mimi gives her a super deep pep talk about being afraid of losing control.
Lor: It’s super cool that they are trying to equate losing control during a stroke to a baby-sitting job gone bad. Okay, book. Okay.
Sweeney: They are totally and completely the same thing.
BSC Meeting. The girls all sign Claudia’s cast, except Hipster Mallory, who thinks, “Autographs are dumb.” Uh, OK? Random hostility. Way to be a bitch to your friend with the broken leg. Anyway, first order of business is pointing out that when Claudia was in the hospital, she failed to pay dues. She also wasn’t working or getting jobs and won’t be able to do that for a while, so that’s kind of a dick move, girls. Claudia awkwards that she’s also not down to pay because she’s quitting the club, due to her Babysitting PTSD. Kristy convinces her to compromise and just wait until her broken-limb imposed break is up before deciding.
Cookie Sobak calls the BSC for another sitter, which is insane since her kid just broke that last sitter. Also since that evening ended with her child in the care of an eleven-year-old. Mallory then has the brilliant idea to take that job so that she can bring all of her siblings prank crap and play tricks on Betsy. Kristy points out that it would super mean to play tricks on a small child, but quickly gets over that concern.
We see from the BSC Notebook that Mallory’s siblings charged her a rental fee for the stuff, that Kristy would like them to reimburse her for from the club dues. Just to be clear — Claudia was asked to pay back-dues after she was in the hospital all week because of an injury she sustained on the job (though they still met in her bedroom that week, BTW) but Mallory is being reimbursed because her siblings extorted her? That’s some bullshit. Claudia should be filing for workers’ comp. Somebody needs to explain workers’ compensation to her and also probably spell it for her.
Lor: LOLOLOL. “Hey, Claudia? Can you directly pass the dues you couldn’t earn while babysitting thanks to a prank directly to Mallory so she can play a prank on someone? KAY. THANKS.” I just love it so much.
Sweeney: Mallory spends most of the sitting job in a state of paranoia, because as a child herself, they are probably quite evenly matched. Mallory impresses Betsy Sobak with her rhyming skillz, which she has because Hipster Mallory is big on poetry. Then they spend the rest of the afternoon playing pranks on each other and it’s so boring Claudia can’t even be bothered to describe it in any great detail.
The other girls get turns sitting Betsy. Dawn calls her brother in California for advice and Kristy wants to reimburse her for the cost of the phone call. WUT? SHE’S 13. SHE’S CALLING HER BROTHER. She’s not paying that bill, darling. I can only assume that now that she lives in Watson’s MANSION!! she assumes her friends must all be in poverty. Except, for some unknown reason, Claudia.
Lor: “Hey, Claudia, we came over to use your phone for our meeting. Also, could you hand a little cash to Dawn? Yeah. She has to make a long distance call.”
Sweeney: However, because Dawn is the best babysitter eva, Betsy gives a sincere heartfelt apology for all of the pranks during their time together. Except, JK. Betsey Sobak was just getting Dawn’s guard down to prank her some more. Because Betsy Sobak is evil.
Meanwhile Claudia is complaining about how bored she is. I’m sure the irony is lost on her. She’s also using her boredom to drive her poor struggling grandmother crazy. Poor Mimi. Claudia tries to explain that she’s reached a transcendent state of boredom where even the menials tasks conventional bored people see as their saving grace cannot capture her interest.
She has a few more “I don’t know what to doooo!” conversations with Mimi and Stacey, over the phone, before another BSC meeting. Claudia also has to tell Mary Anne to get off the phone with her boyfriend because of all the money it’s costing; since Claudia’s apparently the only one expected to pay dues ever, she can’t afford that shit. Then they harass her some more about whether she’s dropping out. She hasn’t even returned to school yet! It’s not like she can babysit any time soon. Calm the fuck down.
The girls also lament that they’re losing their “war” with Betsy Sobak. The book is almost over, so that’s about to change. Naturally, the next chapter goes to Kristy and her BSC Notebook entry begins with endless bragging about her victory. “Today we won it. Oh, okay. I won’t be modest about it. I won it. I won the war.” Sometimes I wonder if it’s inappropriate for me to hate a fictional child so much, especially now that we read crap like Fifty Shades week after week, but NOPE. I don’t feel bad at all. She sucks. (L: YEP.)
Kristy’s sitting job is at the movies and we are reminded of Stoneybrook’s insane notion of adulthood when they purchase one child and one adult ticket. LOL, whatever girls. We also learn that Betsy tormenting everyone she meets has left her friendless. Kristy’s first prank was to to move seats on Betsy so she’d return to the theater to fear she’d been abandoned and, worse yet, Kristy sat and giggled to herself as kids from Besty’s class shouted, “Hey look, there’s Betsy the Brat!” Worst babysitter ever.
She plays a few more pranks, and Betsy’s loud reactions earn her a few more jeers from classmates. Sucks to be everyone else in this theater. When Betsy asks Kristy why she’s doing this (while the movie is still playing!) she lists all the shit Betsy did to the other girls and some random kid across the theater adds a prank she played on him to the list and it’s slightly hilarious. Except that I do not appreciate the GWC teaching children that all this talking in the movie theater is acceptable. STFU, children.
Lor: Theaters are no place for life lessons. Take that shit outside.
Sweeney: Betsy was absolutely a giant brat, but it’s worth pointing out that each girl who babysat for this kid agreed that it would be tattling to mention Betsy’s pranking issues to her parents. You know, because the members of the BSC are children themselves. These children decided to give a smaller child actual childhood trauma, rather than suggesting that her parents do some parenting and oh never mind that doesn’t happen in Stoneybrook. Carry on, girls.
As they leave the theater, they have a heart-to-heart about the Claudia situation and apparently this book has already spanned three-and-a-half weeks. Just, you know, a fun note for the nonsense calendar we operate on here in Stoneybrook. I think it’s kind of like how seasons are different in Westeros? Calendars do their own fucking thing in Stoneybrook.
Lor: HIGH SCHOOL IS COMING.
(Eventually, you know. Maybe even after a character gets beheaded or killed by a vagina-shadow-assassin. There are 100 books left, YOU NEVER KNOW.)
Sweeney: BEST HEADCANON EVER. (And we probably never will know, given our completion rate on these books.)
They go to Claudia’s so that Betsy can apologize, though Claudia was expecting someone better. “Maybe a cute boy who was concerned about my recovery. (I wasn’t picky. Any cute boy would do.)“
Betsy apologizes to Claudia and is now a totally reformed Prankaholic. Kristy takes Betsy home and then returns that same night to badger still-hasn’t-returned-to-school-yet Claudia for an answer about quitting. Quit, Claudia! Kristy’s also getting her older brother — who the club gives gas money to for driving Kristy around — to pick her up from Claudia’s. I bet she’s going to hit her up for dues money again.
Anyway, Claudia shares all of her big life lessons. She realized from Betsy that it wasn’t Babysitting PTSD, but that she was embarrassed to have been duped by a(nother) child. Pretty sure what the kid did to you was just sort of evil, Claudia, but whatever. She also learned from Mimi that she can’t control everything, like whether or not babysitting occasionally puts her in the path of an evil child. Claudia decides to stay in the club as long as she never has to sit for Betsy again. Then Kristy and Claudia call every single one of their friends to share this news. Maybe this is where E. L. James learned her trick for pointless-detail sharing?
Claudia gets her cast off, the club has another meeting, Kristy’s brother prank calls them a few times, and Claudia gushes about how totes thrilled she is to still be in the club. Book over. This book tells us that it spans a little over two months. I mention this whenever I read these books, but I can’t help it: being trapped in the 8th grade forever sounds nothing short of horrifying.
Next time: Kristy starts a baseball team and has a crush on the coach of the opposing team. There’s a small possibility that we’ll one day blog about it and you’ll find out what happens in BSC #20 — Kristy’s Krushers.