The Baby-sitters Club #3: The Truth About Stacey
So I think we all know the truth about Stacey. There are 2 fundamental truths, and we hold these truths to be self-evident, that Stacey McGill is diabetic, and that Stacey McGill is AWESOME.
Background: Okay, seriously, this is probably as good a time as any to make clear my obsession with one Ms. Anastasia Elizabeth McGill. So sophisticated. So cool. I thought if I moved to New York City I’d be just like her. So even though I was 23 years old before I got the chance, I moved here anyway. Yes, that’s right. I made a vital and irrevocable life decision because of Stacey McGill. Ashamed, me? Never.
Plot(s): So, double plotline. The first really has nothing to do with Stacey. Some eighth graders set up their own “Baby-sitters Agency” and start poaching clients from the BSC, because the Agency sitters are older and can stay out later. However, the Agency sitters do not have the BSC’s sense of responsibility/nerdiness, and are more interested in smoking cigarettes, talking to their boyfriends, and watching TV than playing (or even paying a modicum of attention to) poor sad Jamie Newton. The BSC makes some futile attempts at finding new members (dumbasses totally get taken for a ride by some members of the other agency who join the BSC as double agents. Seriously, Kristy, I though you were supposed to be at least mildly crafty… you really didn’t see that coming a mile away?) Finally, just at the brink of despair, the BSC finds Jamie Newton playing outside in the front yard, wearing no hat or mittens on a very cold day. Apparently, his baby-sitter pretty much told him he could do whatever he wanted, and apparently what he wanted to was wander outside and freeze. Not the brightest bulb there, is he? No wonder he and Claudia get along so well. Anyway, the BSC decides that they must tattle to Mrs. Newton, who then calls all the other parents in Stoneybrook, and suddenly, the Baby-sitters Agency goes belly up and everyone realizes that it is a much better idea to leave your children in the capable hands of a 12 year old.
Plotline numero dos: Stacey doesn’t like being diabetic and she has to give herself injections and basically, one wrong move and she could die at any time. Stace is also sad because that bitch Laine Cummings from NYC stopped being her friend when she got sick. To be fair, if someone wet the bed at a slumber party where I was sharing a bed with her, and then didn’t tell me what was wrong, I might start avoiding her too. I mean, I get that Laine is kind of jerk for how she treated Stacey, but really Stace? You’ve got to give her something. For all she knows, you really are dying. It probably freaked her the hell out. Although I generally sympathize with los padres McGill, I think they dropped the ball on hiding Stacey’s illness from their friends, therefore making her feel like she has to hide it from hers. Then again, my parents had no problem airing my medical problems to anyone in tri-county area, and that was equally horrific. Maybe we could find a happy medium, like, oh say, we keep the pizza delivery guy in the dark, but maybe let our best friends know what’s going on in our lives? Could have spared Stace and Laine a lot of heartache. Anyway, so Ed and Mo (the McGills—at some point in a later book we find out that these are their names and let’s face it, I’m just going to start using them now to save myself some hassle. Actually, they go by Edward and Maureen, but I like to think of us as friends, so nicknames it is!) drag Stacey to one doctor after another, anyone and everyone they can find, even though they have a perfectly nice, reputable doctor. Basically, they want a miracle cure for their only child. I actually like this plotline for its realistic setup, even though I think it denouement is pretty ridiculous. So Stace goes behind her parents back to Dr. Johanssen about how she doesn’t want to be rushing off to NYC every weekend to meet with some other doctor who’s not going to be able to help her. Dr. J then goes behind Ed and Mo’s back to set up an appointment for Stace with some super well-respected doctor in NYC. So Stacey springs this surprise appointment on her parents when they’re all in NYC to visit another quack, and the well-respected doctor basically tells Ed and Mo to calm the hell down. Although Doc J sends a letter to Ed and Mo to explain her actions (Stace came to her confidentially, blah, blah, blah), I’ve got to say that if I were them and some random was dispensing medical advice to my 12 year old without my knowledge and then writing me a letter explaining her moral dilemma, I’d be all “Moral dilemma this, bi-otch” and hit her with a lawsuit and never let Stacey baby-sit for sad-sack Charlotte again. But apparently Ed and Mo are better people than me. Oh, and Stace and Laine make up, so… Yay? I guess.
Key takeaways: I’d like to thank this book for psychologically scarring me for life: To this day, when I find myself inordinately thirsty, I become convinced that I have diabetes and am going to start wetting the bed and having to shoot myself up with insulin. Not sure that’s what Ann M. Martin was going for, but I think the entire medical community can thank her for empowering a whole generation of young girls to self-diagnose. Who needs eighth grade health class, after all?
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