The Baby-Sitters Club

With nineties nostalgia in full swing, I feel like every couple of months or so there is a new funny thing online about the favourite ghostwritten children's lit series du jour. Today it is The Baby-Sitters Club, or BSC for those in the know. The Huffington Post has put up this Where Are They Now? satire. Now, this might just be my leftover fondness for the series talking, but I didn't find it terribly funny. It's been done before (a search for it brings up more than one), but I still like being reminded of the series, so I thought it was worth posting.

When I was about 9, my best friend and I used to devour these books. I remember she had a drawer full of absolutely all of them, books I had never even SEEN, as my exposure was pretty limited to the local library, which was very, very tiny. Apparently her aunt worked for a bookstore or a publisher or something, and the result was that she had every BSC book in existence. I was already jealous of her tropical fish tank and how she had her own room when I had to share mine with my older sister, but this made me ridiculously jealous.

Looking back, I recognize how ridiculous these books are. I realized it to some extent even then, because I always skipped chapter two, knowing it contained all the same tired information about how Kristy's parents were divorced and Dawn was from California and Mary Ann was a loser, etc. Still, I loved those books. I really admired their business moxie, I guess.

That's a lie. What I admired was the drama. I was (and still, let's face it, am) a sucker for an overwrought, dramatic story line. My favourite character was Stacey, because she was from New York (glamorous!) and had diabetes (glamorous?). I still remember the book where she ate a candy bar in a flash of pique and went into a diabetic coma, during which the book flashed back to when she discovered she had diabetes. She was on a train to New York to visit her dad (her parents had just gotten divorced! The poor girl!) when she found herself having to pee all the time and also being unreasonably thirsty. I have no idea if these are real symptoms of diabetes, but for years I wondered excitedly every time I was thirsty or had to pee a lot if I had a dramatic, potentially terminal illness. I am not particularly proud of this. But there it is.

Um, you can all feel free to psychoanalyze 9-year-old Stephanie now. Current Stephanie can probably take it.