Super Special #11 The Baby-sitters Remember - Mary Anne & Epilogue
Prologue/Kristy - Stacey - Claudia - Jessi - Logan - Mallory - Shannon - Dawn
Ah, Mary Anne... Her memory was always one of my favorites as a kid, mostly because it’s just so random. It’s pretty far back in her history, considering. Anyways, here we go!
Sad when five years is “pretty far back”, but compared to pretty much everyone else, I’ll take what I can get.
Mary Anne starts off talking about not having a mom, and having a lot of baby-sitters while growing up. For some reason Richie just can’t pick a single baby-sitter, which must be really annoying for poor Mary Anne. She even says, “I got used to not knowing who to expect when I walked through our door.” I mean, the girl is eight... Is it that hard to have some structure, or to let her know before she gets home who will be there?
Moving on, Mary Anne talks about how she spent a lot of time at Kristy’s place, and how Mrs. Thomas was like a half-mom to her. At least the girl had one female role model in her life. There’s even a hint about puberty, because she “asked [Mrs. Thomas] things [she] couldn’t ask [her] dad.”
Honestly, I can see why the relationship between Mary Anne and Richie was so weird in those early books. If this was her life growing up... Well, it must have made things a little awkward. Doesn’t she say that he feels more like a stranger that shares her home, instead of her father? Jeez...
Mary Anne spends a lot of time with Kristy, too. And Kristy encourages Mary Anne to do lots of things that she wouldn’t normally. Including “experiment with the washing machine.” I’m... not touching that one. Take it as you will.
Let’s continue on! Richie has to go to Chicago on business, and Mary Anne gets a babysitter. Not just a babysitter, a new babysitter. As in, someone she’s never met before. Also, Richie tells her this while they’re eating cookies that taste like soap, and he actually takes a bite of cookie out of his mouth. Dunno, made me laugh.
Mary Anne desperately tries to get a better offer than an old lady that she doesn’t know spending the weekend with her, including staying at a friends’ or having a baby-sitter that she at least knows come to stay.
Okay, what the hell, Richie? He gets a call on Saturday afternoon that the agency has a baby-sitter available for him (and HAH! Kristy, you didn’t think up baby-sitting clubs, you little bitch. You just thought up one that doesn’t have to pay taxes!), and says he’ll interview her Monday. She’ll be there Friday when Mary Anne gets home from school. Why not let Mary Anne actually meet this woman before she has to spend a weekend with her? Seriously now.
Richie actually gets the hint that Mary Anne is unhappy (FINALLY), and asks what will make the weekend better. Being a smart soap-tasting cookie, Mary Anne decides against “you not leaving” and “Mrs. Tate (the sitter) not coming” and says that having her friends sleep over on Friday night would make it better.
Mrs. Tate’s car sounds hideous. This woman really doesn’t do much to make a good impression, I guess. It’s rusty, and one of the windows is just waxed paper. Plus it’s covered with dirty bumper stickers.
Mary Anne wants to cry (surprise, surprise) but sucks it up because her baby-sitter might try to cancel the slumber party that her father already approved if she does. Mrs. Tate, of course, looks funny and smells funny, and there’s awkward introductions because Mary Anne has never met this woman before. For the love of... Richie! You don’t just leave your eight-year-old to come home to a complete stranger, who they have to stay with for a weekend without introducing the two of them first! That’s horrible and irresponsible! Just because you like the sitter doesn’t automatically mean your daughter will! She has opinions of her own, you brainless dick! That’s it, for the rest of this snark, you’re going to be called Dick.
/endrant
Denied a brownie because she’s having pizza for dinner, and told she can have an apple for a snack instead, Mary Anne flees to Kristy’s to whine. She’s told not to snack at Kristy’s, and despite being upset and hungry, she actually follows that rule. Good God, girl, just take the apple. It’s not like she said “No, you have to eat raw onions instead of a brownie.” Mary Anne, you’re pathetic. Take the apple, or break the rules at Kristy’s. How’s she going to know if you have a cookie?
Kristy says that they’re gonna get revenge, and Mary Anne closes the chapter with an “uh-oh.” Well, don’t tell your much bolder friend that you hate your baby-sitter and whine to her about it. What the hell do you think Kristy’s gonna do?
Next chapter! Mary Anne’s still pissed at Mrs. Tate, Kristy and Claudia get there and Mary Anne fumbles an introduction. The girls try to run up to Mary Anne’s room, and Mrs. Tate reasonably asks when they want their pizza, then lets them know she’ll be eating ahead of time.
Honestly, all this woman has done is try to take care of Mary Anne. So she didn’t let her have a brownie, that’s probably a good thing. I agree that an apple is a better after school snack. Any day. Dip it in peanut butter... Mm... They call her horrible because she’s old, has an ugly car, and cares about a healthy diet. It’s not like she made Mary Anne scrub the floors and denied her the slumber party. Ugh. Eight-year-olds.
Anyways! Kristy decides that they’re going to pepper the hell out of Mrs. Tate’s salad (pizza apparently ‘doesn’t sit well’ with her... Okayyyy then). Kristy’ll do the actual peppering, while Mary Anne and Claudia distract Mrs. Tate. “Start shrieking that you see a spider. That always gets old ladies moving. They hate spiders. She’ll either want to catch it or kill it, and that could take a few minutes.” Oh Kristy, you stereotype so hard. (Coincidentally, if I was watching some kids and they started shrieking about a spider, I’d tell them to kill it themselves. Fuck spiders, man, they’re scary.)
Well, they do just that, and Mrs. Tate is all “it’s just a spider, don’t be pathetic.” Kristy peppers her food, they watch her eat it... And quite anti-climactically, she doesn’t freak out. She just makes herself a new salad. Way to waste food, girls. Starving children and all.
So they move on to plan number two, which is nailing Mrs. Tate’s ugly pink slippers to the floor. They watch her try to do put them on while eating their pizza, and Mary Anne notices that rather than get pissed, Mrs. Tate just smiles.
Mary Anne is amazed that her stereotyping has been proven wrong, and they decide to play another joke on Mrs. Tate. I have to wonder if it had been another baby-sitter, one without a perfectly intact sense of humor, what would have happened. Probably a canceled slumber party and a bad report to her father.
The next ‘prank’ is to hang a scary rubber mask in the fridge, which is again appreciated. They even get called creative. I call bullshit, though, because the most creative thing they did was nailing down the slippers. And even that's been done before.
Mrs. Tate shares a prank that I’ve always wanted to pull, but never quite had the nerve to... Putting some plastic wrap over the toilet bowl. Hlariously, Mary Anne doesn’t go into the details of what happens next, just says “well, you can imagine the rest.” Also, they actually mention using the toilet. Has that ever happened before?
Mary Anne learns important lessons because The More You Know... About how it’s okay to have fun once in a while (gosh, ya think?), most people have a sense of humor (again, duh), and stereotyping is wrong.
Somehow, making a fake breakfast of garbage stew (which she just had in a pot, she didn’t even serve it to them or anything) causes Kristy to exclaim that she “got them”. Uh, not really. If that’s a prank, it’s pretty shitty.
Well, that wraps up Mary Anne’s chapter, so we’ll move on to the epilogue.
Starts off with Kristy’s paper for school, and her declaration of love for the word ‘epiphany’. She groups everyone at SMS together and says that they all used their vivid memories for their essays... Uh, no, dear. Most people probably said “I went on vacation to Happy World Land with my friend and his family. It took a long time to drive out there, and we picked up a serial killer on the way. Also Cousin Stinky was there. We rode the monorail and then they dragged me home.”
...I’m proud of myself that I can remember that much from Tiny Toons.
Moving on, there’s a huge editing fail. Kristy specifically said that the essay was two pages in the prologue, but by the epilogue it’s down to only one page. Amazing how that happens, huh?
There’s another slumber party happening, and the girls talk about their vivid memories, which they apparently all wrote down and shared with each other. Because apparently comparing breasts and practicing making out (what I assume to be normal middle school behavior) is boring.
Blah blah blah, we all learned stuff from our memories. Evidence that Shannon is trolling, because she brushes off Sally with a casual “she moved” and also seems nonchalant that it was at the end of the school year... you know, two months ago. Jeez...
Dawn calls, and there’s a sequel hook with her question of “what was the most exciting day of your life?” God no, please... Just no. I can’t take it anymore!
And that’s that! I didn’t start it, but dammit, I finished it. I’ve got a couple more books already lined up, including Shannon’s Story (turns out I actually own it. I’m surprised), a Little Sister with a tagline too hilarious to resist, The Book of the Movie of the Books, and the (already-written, actually) BSC Baby-Sitting Guide.
Ah, Mary Anne... Her memory was always one of my favorites as a kid, mostly because it’s just so random. It’s pretty far back in her history, considering. Anyways, here we go!
Sad when five years is “pretty far back”, but compared to pretty much everyone else, I’ll take what I can get.
Mary Anne starts off talking about not having a mom, and having a lot of baby-sitters while growing up. For some reason Richie just can’t pick a single baby-sitter, which must be really annoying for poor Mary Anne. She even says, “I got used to not knowing who to expect when I walked through our door.” I mean, the girl is eight... Is it that hard to have some structure, or to let her know before she gets home who will be there?
Moving on, Mary Anne talks about how she spent a lot of time at Kristy’s place, and how Mrs. Thomas was like a half-mom to her. At least the girl had one female role model in her life. There’s even a hint about puberty, because she “asked [Mrs. Thomas] things [she] couldn’t ask [her] dad.”
Honestly, I can see why the relationship between Mary Anne and Richie was so weird in those early books. If this was her life growing up... Well, it must have made things a little awkward. Doesn’t she say that he feels more like a stranger that shares her home, instead of her father? Jeez...
Mary Anne spends a lot of time with Kristy, too. And Kristy encourages Mary Anne to do lots of things that she wouldn’t normally. Including “experiment with the washing machine.” I’m... not touching that one. Take it as you will.
Let’s continue on! Richie has to go to Chicago on business, and Mary Anne gets a babysitter. Not just a babysitter, a new babysitter. As in, someone she’s never met before. Also, Richie tells her this while they’re eating cookies that taste like soap, and he actually takes a bite of cookie out of his mouth. Dunno, made me laugh.
Mary Anne desperately tries to get a better offer than an old lady that she doesn’t know spending the weekend with her, including staying at a friends’ or having a baby-sitter that she at least knows come to stay.
Okay, what the hell, Richie? He gets a call on Saturday afternoon that the agency has a baby-sitter available for him (and HAH! Kristy, you didn’t think up baby-sitting clubs, you little bitch. You just thought up one that doesn’t have to pay taxes!), and says he’ll interview her Monday. She’ll be there Friday when Mary Anne gets home from school. Why not let Mary Anne actually meet this woman before she has to spend a weekend with her? Seriously now.
Richie actually gets the hint that Mary Anne is unhappy (FINALLY), and asks what will make the weekend better. Being a smart soap-tasting cookie, Mary Anne decides against “you not leaving” and “Mrs. Tate (the sitter) not coming” and says that having her friends sleep over on Friday night would make it better.
Mrs. Tate’s car sounds hideous. This woman really doesn’t do much to make a good impression, I guess. It’s rusty, and one of the windows is just waxed paper. Plus it’s covered with dirty bumper stickers.
Mary Anne wants to cry (surprise, surprise) but sucks it up because her baby-sitter might try to cancel the slumber party that her father already approved if she does. Mrs. Tate, of course, looks funny and smells funny, and there’s awkward introductions because Mary Anne has never met this woman before. For the love of... Richie! You don’t just leave your eight-year-old to come home to a complete stranger, who they have to stay with for a weekend without introducing the two of them first! That’s horrible and irresponsible! Just because you like the sitter doesn’t automatically mean your daughter will! She has opinions of her own, you brainless dick! That’s it, for the rest of this snark, you’re going to be called Dick.
/endrant
Denied a brownie because she’s having pizza for dinner, and told she can have an apple for a snack instead, Mary Anne flees to Kristy’s to whine. She’s told not to snack at Kristy’s, and despite being upset and hungry, she actually follows that rule. Good God, girl, just take the apple. It’s not like she said “No, you have to eat raw onions instead of a brownie.” Mary Anne, you’re pathetic. Take the apple, or break the rules at Kristy’s. How’s she going to know if you have a cookie?
Kristy says that they’re gonna get revenge, and Mary Anne closes the chapter with an “uh-oh.” Well, don’t tell your much bolder friend that you hate your baby-sitter and whine to her about it. What the hell do you think Kristy’s gonna do?
Next chapter! Mary Anne’s still pissed at Mrs. Tate, Kristy and Claudia get there and Mary Anne fumbles an introduction. The girls try to run up to Mary Anne’s room, and Mrs. Tate reasonably asks when they want their pizza, then lets them know she’ll be eating ahead of time.
Honestly, all this woman has done is try to take care of Mary Anne. So she didn’t let her have a brownie, that’s probably a good thing. I agree that an apple is a better after school snack. Any day. Dip it in peanut butter... Mm... They call her horrible because she’s old, has an ugly car, and cares about a healthy diet. It’s not like she made Mary Anne scrub the floors and denied her the slumber party. Ugh. Eight-year-olds.
Anyways! Kristy decides that they’re going to pepper the hell out of Mrs. Tate’s salad (pizza apparently ‘doesn’t sit well’ with her... Okayyyy then). Kristy’ll do the actual peppering, while Mary Anne and Claudia distract Mrs. Tate. “Start shrieking that you see a spider. That always gets old ladies moving. They hate spiders. She’ll either want to catch it or kill it, and that could take a few minutes.” Oh Kristy, you stereotype so hard. (Coincidentally, if I was watching some kids and they started shrieking about a spider, I’d tell them to kill it themselves. Fuck spiders, man, they’re scary.)
Well, they do just that, and Mrs. Tate is all “it’s just a spider, don’t be pathetic.” Kristy peppers her food, they watch her eat it... And quite anti-climactically, she doesn’t freak out. She just makes herself a new salad. Way to waste food, girls. Starving children and all.
So they move on to plan number two, which is nailing Mrs. Tate’s ugly pink slippers to the floor. They watch her try to do put them on while eating their pizza, and Mary Anne notices that rather than get pissed, Mrs. Tate just smiles.
Mary Anne is amazed that her stereotyping has been proven wrong, and they decide to play another joke on Mrs. Tate. I have to wonder if it had been another baby-sitter, one without a perfectly intact sense of humor, what would have happened. Probably a canceled slumber party and a bad report to her father.
The next ‘prank’ is to hang a scary rubber mask in the fridge, which is again appreciated. They even get called creative. I call bullshit, though, because the most creative thing they did was nailing down the slippers. And even that's been done before.
Mrs. Tate shares a prank that I’ve always wanted to pull, but never quite had the nerve to... Putting some plastic wrap over the toilet bowl. Hlariously, Mary Anne doesn’t go into the details of what happens next, just says “well, you can imagine the rest.” Also, they actually mention using the toilet. Has that ever happened before?
Mary Anne learns important lessons because The More You Know... About how it’s okay to have fun once in a while (gosh, ya think?), most people have a sense of humor (again, duh), and stereotyping is wrong.
Somehow, making a fake breakfast of garbage stew (which she just had in a pot, she didn’t even serve it to them or anything) causes Kristy to exclaim that she “got them”. Uh, not really. If that’s a prank, it’s pretty shitty.
Well, that wraps up Mary Anne’s chapter, so we’ll move on to the epilogue.
Starts off with Kristy’s paper for school, and her declaration of love for the word ‘epiphany’. She groups everyone at SMS together and says that they all used their vivid memories for their essays... Uh, no, dear. Most people probably said “I went on vacation to Happy World Land with my friend and his family. It took a long time to drive out there, and we picked up a serial killer on the way. Also Cousin Stinky was there. We rode the monorail and then they dragged me home.”
...I’m proud of myself that I can remember that much from Tiny Toons.
Moving on, there’s a huge editing fail. Kristy specifically said that the essay was two pages in the prologue, but by the epilogue it’s down to only one page. Amazing how that happens, huh?
There’s another slumber party happening, and the girls talk about their vivid memories, which they apparently all wrote down and shared with each other. Because apparently comparing breasts and practicing making out (what I assume to be normal middle school behavior) is boring.
Blah blah blah, we all learned stuff from our memories. Evidence that Shannon is trolling, because she brushes off Sally with a casual “she moved” and also seems nonchalant that it was at the end of the school year... you know, two months ago. Jeez...
Dawn calls, and there’s a sequel hook with her question of “what was the most exciting day of your life?” God no, please... Just no. I can’t take it anymore!
And that’s that! I didn’t start it, but dammit, I finished it. I’ve got a couple more books already lined up, including Shannon’s Story (turns out I actually own it. I’m surprised), a Little Sister with a tagline too hilarious to resist, The Book of the Movie of the Books, and the (already-written, actually) BSC Baby-Sitting Guide.