Previously: Dawn has to baby-sit for some terrible kids that are actually not terrible at all. Their mother on the other hand should’ve been carted away by CPS.
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Sweeney: It’s the return of my favorite twelve-year-old narrator in the entire history of fictional bratty children. Gloriously, this book is that it opens with a quote from Karen Brewer, Kristy’s six-year-old soon-to-be step-sister (holy hyphens, batman!) who might be the only character in Stoneybrook who I find more obnoxious than Kristy Thomas herself. Although Karen has her moments within the series, you have to subject yourself to her spin-off series in order to grasp the depths of her brattiness.
Why is this a good thing? Because the first page of the book doesn’t remind us that the BSC was Kristy’s idea! I re-read it a few times to be sure, because I was stunned. In fact, at first mention of the BSC, she only tells us that she’s in charge. I briefly deluded myself into thinking this one might not annoy me so much.
Lor: It’s a Christmas miracle! I realize it isn’t Christmas, but really, what other explanation could there be? If there is ever a Sweet Valley book where the author doesn’t tell how really, really hot the twins are, I’ll be sure and credit Chanukah accordingly.
Sweeney: I definitely felt as though it was a belated Christmas present. Or perhaps a flag day gift. Didn’t that one just happen? Who cares. Because she quickly starts babbling about Watson’s mansion and what a jerk he can be, which is absolute bullshit, because if you’ll recall, Watson is nothing but awesome to this wretched little turd of a child. So never mind that.
Lor: Also, uh, he has a mansion!! STFU, Kristy. Sulk in the privacy of your ginormous room, if you have to.
Sweeney: Also, I feel it is necessary to point out, once again, the continuity nightmare Ann M. Martin has created for her future ghostwriters by moving the girls to June by book six. Six books for the seventh grade and over a hundred for the eighth grade. Uh. OK. Cool.
Lor: I feel like this is the primary indication that even Ann Martin knew the stuff she was writing was crap. “I’ll never make it past 10 books,” she probably thought. “Oh, what? You want to give me a millionty books?! Well, shit.”
Sweeney: Anyway, for a ridiculously contrived set of reasons, (Lor: Contrivance brings people together!) Watson and Kristy’s mother’s wedding must be moved from September to two and a half weeks away. While Kristy’s mom is freaking out about everything she has to do – planning a wedding and packing up her home in a mere two and a half weeks – Kristy shows her true colors and has her little temper tantrum about having to move months earlier than her mom promised because this is obviously all about her and holy crap I never want my kids to read any of the books Kristy narrates because this child is such a brat.
When Kristy forlornly goes to her first BSC meeting of this book, filled with dread over her apocalyptic news, she takes the time to creepily stare at her friends and share descriptions of them again, in case we’ve forgotten what they look like.
“Like Claudia, Stacey enjoys looking good. She enjoys putting together outfits and she enjoys shopping. So does her mother, who has time for such things. (I’m happy in jeans and a t-shirt.)”
What a dumb little twat.
Lor: She’s obviously got a really full schedule, what with reminding people every hour on the hour how the BSC was her idea, peppering in some time consuming tantrums and then there’s always being bossy. Oh, yeah, and all that taking care of kids and stuff. *phew*
Sweeney: Fair. Being cunty is super time-consuming. I can’t even imagine how non-cunty people have time for frivolous shit like shopping.
The meeting carries on with occasional business calls, but mostly gushing about Kristy’s bridesmaid dress. Her mom is letting her pick the color and they all vote yellow and this dress mostly sounds heinous, but Kristy’s excited about a dress so yay for that. Also, the school year will end with a pointless dance! We love pointless dances around here.
Dawn and Mary Anne don’t go because Papa Spier offers to take the Schafers out for pizza and “Dawn and Mary Anne never turned down a chance to see their parents together.” Creepy.
Sadly, no detail is given on the pointless dance. “The Final Fling came and went.” Lame.
Lor: Ann Martin, I’m pretty sure you’re doing pointless dances wrong. No one got together? No one broke up? No monsters appeared? No one was murdered? Not even a ho suspension for dirty dancing? WRONG.
Sweeney: I KNOW. I mean, fine, they’re in seventh grade. That just means we dole out ho suspensions more freely. Kristy held hands with Alan. HO SUSPENSION. Punishment: youth mauling bears. Only in my dreams.
More lazily contrived disasters: for the week leading up to the wedding, the early arrival of friends and family will mean that there are fourteen children running around. But HEY! KRISTY HAS A GREAT IDEA. The kids will all stay at the Thomas home from 9-5 each day under the care of the BSC, who will make bank, while the adults help Mama Thomas with wedding stuff at Watson’s mansion. (We must have constant reminders that it’s a mansion in case we forget. MANSION MANSION MANSION.)
Lor: Yep. Sounds about right. I mean, short of telling us that Watson had a Willy Wonka style supply of candy, this was the best way to make sure dumb kids understood that Watson was just overall awesome. Also, I might randomly yell “MANSION” throughout the rest of your recap. I apologize in advance.
Sweeney: Obviously – it’s important for kids to know that rich people are just better.
There is also this surprisingly sweet sibling moment where Kristy freaks out about all the changes in an uncharacteristically non-whiny fashion and her brothers tease her a bit, but are mostly kind of helpful. It was cute and made me miss my brothers. It also seriously confused me because I went several consecutive pages without wishing something tragic would happen to Kristy.
When Kristy tells the BSC about all the money they are going to make, the girls joke about the various quantities of different junk foods they could buy. This would be a #kidsaredumbyo moment, but really… nom nom nom. Now I’m just hungry.
Lor: And sugar free substitutes for Stacey? Insensitive.
Sweeney: Oh, there are always sugar free substitutes for Stacey. I just don’t care. That’s my insensitivity. Sorry, everyone.
At the emergency meeting that Kristy called to discuss this issue, the girls spend a lot of time making lists and getting super organized and shit which I mostly find improbable for a group of twelve-year-olds, but I’m certain that Nugs was reading this and thinking that maybe she could have kids after all. (Don’t worry, they’ll let you down in a few pages so this will pass.)
(Sidebar: the snark squad is surprisingly organized and in addition to sending each other love letters business-y emails, we have color coded spreadsheets. We’re dedicated, guys. Needless to say, Nugs was the creator of our color coded spreadsheet system.) (Lor: Would it be more impressive if our love letters were color coded? Like red means I love you, orange means I miss you and purple means nudey pictures are attached? This can be arranged.)
Sweeney: You know that when Nugs sees this she’s going to implement that policy.
Unfortunately, the girls hadn’t really counted on things like allergies (this is another running theme of BSC books; every child in Stoneybrook seems to have an allergy) or childproofing their home, or having adequate arrangements for all of the nap times. Kristy panics a little while Mary Anne takes notes on all of the parental instructions because she’s clearly the world’s most intense twelve-year-old. After the parents leave, half of the kids burst into tears, but because the BSC is ZOMG AMAZING and they’ve learned so many Important Life Lessons in the last five books, they resolve all of these crises pretty quickly, though with limited explanation as to how because details aren’t important. It’s just BSC magic.
Lor: MANSION.
Sweeney: During the bit where the parents explained the allergies and medications and stuff (is it sad that I’ve reached a point where I regard this as a serious parenting win?) the mother of the girl on crutches, Ashley, has pain killers for Ashley if her leg starts to swell in her cast and becomes intolerably painful. I became briefly hopeful that we could get some sort of crazy story involving a pill-popping nine-year-old, but then I remembered that this is Stoneybrook and not Sweet Valley.
Lor: Or Bayside. I’m so excited! I’m so excited!
Sweeney: If only…
One of the things I sincerely do love about these books are all the nonsensical little games that the girls come up with to keep the kids busy and distract them from whatever is bothering them or essentially trick them into being helpful (like Dawn’s house cleaning game in the last book). It’s slightly devious and generally demonstrates a surprising level of ingenuity from kids who often lack basic common sense. I know the snark squad loves to mercilessly taunt fictional children, but as the resident sort-of teacher in the group, I have to point out that these are the moments that remind me why kids are also kind of awesome.
There’s a pretty excellent series of pages where Karen manages to terrify the shit out of not only the other kids in Dawn’s group (the kids were divided by age and each BSC member took on three, except Mary Anne who has the two babies) but all of the kids at the playground Dawn took them to. I mean sure, the kid is an obnoxious little brat, but it’s a hilarious #kidsaredumbyo moment as children cry and flee the playground to prepare for the impending martian invasion. It seems that a fair number of our “Where Are They Now” predictions end up being strippers. Karen, however, is clearly a politician of some sort. Or a talk radio personality. Or cult leader. I guess those last two are different names for the same thing.
I just realized why I hate Karen so much. She definitely grew up to be Ann Coulter.
Lor: MANSION.
Sweeney: Karen basically gets the trio and Dawn kicked out of this playground-camp situation by being such a loon. Dawn has to give them a lecture and Karen promises not to mention the martians again, but we all know that’s bullshit.
As another nonsensical aside, because these books don’t really have large running plots, so much as a series of stories about kids who cry and the girls making up games to make them stop crying, Stacey made me like her a little less for beginning her BSC Notebook entry with this:
“This is a confession, you guys. I know you think I’m so sophisticated, since I’m from New York and my hair is permed and everything.”
OH. ALL RIGHT. Can we give her a #hosuspension for this? Permed hair? Next you’ll be telling me you hang out at the mall, Stacey.
(her confession, by the way, is that her favorite movie is Mary Poppins.)
I could rehash all of the babysitting nonsense, but most of it is just not that interesting. Stacey’s Mary Poppins “confession” was prelude to her story of taking her group to a special showing at a movie theater with a balcony, which I did not know was a thing. Regardless, the kids managed to cause a ruckus and dump candy all over the audience members below them. Also Stacey made me laugh by purchasing tickets for one adult and three children. Stacey, you’re twelve. I can’t think of a single establishment that wouldn’t give you the child price. YOU ARE A CHILD. #babieswatchingbabies
Lor: I got carded for an r-rated movie like… last week. It’s ’cause I don’t perm my hair, right? Dammit.
Sweeney: Probably. In order to be an adult you have to be sophisticated and perm your hair.
In another fine display of parental stupidity, the adults decided that the six boys needed to get haircuts for the wedding, and it would have to happen during the babysitting hours. (I should add that the parents did give the girls money to finance these little field trips, but still, parenting foul.) Kristy and Mary-Anne were in charge of that excursion, and I laughed hysterically when Kristy lectured David Michael for being rude to the barber and asked him who taught him to speak to adults that way. Uhh, probably you, Kristy.
As a final time-killing activity for the end of the day Friday, the girls decide that they should do some sort of talent-show-esque thing that would get everyone involved. Dawn decides that since the wedding is all the kids have heard about for a week, they could have a pretend wedding to prepare them for the real thing the next day.
“‘You mean marry off a couple of the children?’ said Stacey, laughing.”
It’s really helpful when the characters in these books go ahead and make things creepy for us. It makes our job so much easier.
The bride and groom? Karen and David Michael, future step-siblings. I thought this was Connecticut, not Alabama. But my favorite part is why: “Because we’re the same height.”
See, kids are kind of awesome. Can this be a thing? Can I just go up to some hot guy and say, “Hey, we’re about the same height. I guess we should get married?”
Scratch that, I need a guy taller than me. This plan can never work.
Lor: I’m five feet tall. Sorry, kids are still dumb, yo.
Sweeney: Hahahaha, I’m going to find you a five foot tall man…
During the wedding plans, I get a nod to the story-that-wasn’t-but-it-totally-happened-in-my-head:
(Ashley had made a miraculous recovery from her various aches and pains.)
A miracle called vicodin. Ashley could be on our list of future strippers, but I’m going to go ahead and say that her “Where Are They Now?” is more of a Lindsay Lohan/Paris Hilton general train-wreck type.
“‘But I’m her mother,’ Ashley protested. ‘Aren’t mothers supposed to complain?'”
Ashley is totally my favorite. It’s too bad she’s an out-of-town cousin that we will likely never hear from again.
Later, Karen has a bit of a fit because her flower girl rose petals will be white instead of yellow. This, in her six-year-old brain, presents a serious problem because she will have white magic while the neighboring witch, Morbidda Destiny, will be practicing black magic. I’m not sure if we’ve mentioned Morbidda Destiny, but Karen talks about her neighbor being a witch pretty frequently and uses it to scare the other children, and the baby-sitters (who are also children). I bring this up because I am now certain that she is in fact a small Ann Coulter.
Lor: Is this a serious plot point? I couldn’t decide if you were joking because you totally lost me at “white magic.” Uh… lol?
Sweeney: I’m not joking. This is in fact a serious plot point. Karen is an obnoxious little twat just like Kristy and threw a fit over her white rose petals because of the conflicting magics. Kids are not only dumb, they are also insane.
The wedding happens and it goes pretty smoothly and Kristy takes a break from being a huge brat to actually be happy for her mother and come up with a cute idea for a wedding present. She gets the whole gang together to help her work on her family tree drawing to show the coming together of her new family. We have a big sappy conclusion about how swell things are now. And the joining of the families: “That’s what the wedding had been all about.” Because obviously drawing any other conclusion would imply that this hadn’t been about her, and this is of course Kristy’s Big Day. Right.
Lor: MANSION.
Next time on The Baby-sitters Club: Is there someone more cunty than Kristy and is that person Claudia’s mean sister Janine? Find out in BSC #7 – Claudia and Mean Janine.
Nicole is the co-captain of Snark Squad and these days she spends most of her time editing podcasts. She spends too much time on Twitter and very occasionally vlogs and blogs. In her day job she's a producer, editor, director, and sometimes host of educational YouTube channels. She loves travel, maps, panda gifs, and semicolons. Writing biographies stresses her out; she crowd sourced this one years ago and has been using a version of it ever since. She would like to thank Twitter for their help.
I'm a 30-something south Floridan who loves the beach but cannot swim. Such is my life, full of small contradictions and little trivialities. My main life goals are never to take life too seriously, but to do everything I attempt seriously well. After that, my life goals devolve into things like not wearing pants and eating all of the Zebra Cakes in the world. THE WORLD.
