Ann Martin - Baby-Sitters Club 059

"The Rodowsky boys were wild yesterday," Claudia complained. (And normally Claudia likes them.) "They're always wild," she con- tinued, "but yesterday Jackie locked Bo in the toolshed because he wanted to paint the inside of Bo's doghouse. Then he lost the key to the toolshed. Poor Bo was howling his head off. While I was fiddling in the lock with a bobby pin, he and Archie got into a fight. The next thing I knew, blue paint was flying everywhere. So Shea decided to play the big brother, saying he'd paint the doghouse. But he didn't realize Jackie had wanted to paint the inside, and he began slapping the paint on the outside - which caused another fight. And then Shea only painted half of the doghouse, got bored, and went to a friend's house." , "Oh, my gosh." Stacey laughed sympathetically. "What finally happened?" "By the time Mrs. Rodowsky came back, I had cleaned up the boys, but Bo was still howling and the doghouse was still half blue." "Was Mrs. Rodowsky mad?" asked Jessi.

Claudia shrugged. "She didn't look thrilled. Luckily she had an extra key for the toolshed." "I know how you must have felt," Dawn said. "I had a tough time with the Barretts the other day. Buddy gave me the most trouble. He wouldn't stop picking on Suzi and Marnie." "He was picking on Marnie?" exclaimed Mary Anne.

"Yeah. I couldn't believe it. Here was this big seven-year-old annoying this little toddler. And he wouldn't stop. He kept taking away her toys, and he turned off her Sesame Street video so he could watch his own cartoons. He was worse with Suzi. Of course, being four, she fights back, but she's no match for him. At one point I actually had to threaten to call his mother." As I listened to all the stories, I wondered if I should point out the fact which was so blaringly obvious to me. The girls we sat for were behaving just fine. It was the boys who were horrible. Ordinarily I would have just come out and said it, but I hesitated because I didn't want to offend Logan.

Finally I decided to speak up, though. Logan would just have to face the facts.

"Hasn't anyone else noticed that we're only having trouble with the boys?" I asked.

"That's not so," said Mary Anne. "Is it?" "You know, Mal is right," said Kristy. "I wonder why that's happening." "Could we be favoring the girls without meaning to?" Stacey ventured. "Maybe that's making the boys act up so they can get attention." "I don't think so," said Claudia. "There are no girls in the Rodowsky family." "Still," Kristy said pensively. "Maybe we should be extra nice to the boys and see what happens." "I was nice to Buddy Barrett, and it didn't make a bit of difference," Dawn disagreed.

"I don't think I was favoring Becca over Squirt, either," said Jessi. "She was just being good and he was a terror." "Logan, you're a boy. Do you have any ideas about this?" Stacey asked.

Logan shook his head. "Not really. All I can think of is that boys are worse at some ages and girls are worse at other ages. Maybe we have a bunch of boys at bad ages." "Or maybe it's just a coincidence," Jessi volunteered.

"I know," said Dawn, smiling. "The planets are in some strange alignment that affects boys only." "That's pretty doubtful," said Logan. "I haven't been acting strangely." "That's a matter of opinion," teased Mary Anne.

Logan responded in typical boy fashion by jabbing Mary Anne in the arm with his knuckles. Mary Anne pretended it hurt, but she was laughing.

"I know what the problem is," I spoke up. "The problem is that boys are pains and girls are not. We just never noticed it before." "Thanks a lot," Logan said, only half laughing.

"I'm sorry, Logan. But thaf s how it seems to me," I replied.

"What about Ben?" Dawn asked.

"Ben is different," I replied.

"So is Logan, then," Mary Anne said, taking Logan's hand.

"Wait a minute," Logan objected. "Ben and I aren't the only two decent guys in the world. There are lots of nice guys." "I agree," said Stacey. "I don't think your theory holds up, Mal." "Maybe, maybe not," I said. "I'm just saying how it seems to me." At that moment the phone rang. It was Dr. Johanssen. She needed someone to sit for Charlotte for a few hours the next day. "One girl, no brothers, the perfect client," I said. "I'll take the job, if no one else wants it." Everyone else was busy, so I did wind up taking the job. Honestly, I don't know if I would have volunteered for the job if Charlotte had been a boy. Boys were nothing but trouble! After a few more calls, the meeting ended. Jessi and I walked outside together. "Why are you so down on boys lately?" Jessi asked me.

"I'm just making observations," I told her.

"What I see is that boys are a pain. Look at the evidence!" "I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "Didn't Ben wait for you after detention again today? That's not being a pain. That's pretty sweet, if you ask me." "I said Ben was different, didn't I? He's the exception that proves the rule." Jessi laughed lightly. "I think you're just annoyed at boys because we have to play vol-leyball with them." "But the boys love to play volleyball, so that proves it!" I cried. "Only people who are pains at heart could love such a dumb game." "For a sensible person, you can be really illogical sometimes," said Jessi. "Besides, I kind of like volleyball." I clamped my hands over my ears. "I didn't hear that," I said.

"But I do," Jessi insisted.

I took my hands from my ears and put them on Jessi's shoulders. "No. You may think you like volleyball, but you're mistaken. You're stressed. Or perhaps you've been stepped on and smacked with the ball too many times. It's affected your brain. Go home. Get a good night's sleep. You'll come to your senses in the morning." Chapter 9.

Finally, my luck seemed to be changing - at least in the baby-sitting department. Sitting for Charlotte Johanssen on Thursday was a breeze. She was good as gold. But, of course, she is a girl.

Then, at the Friday BSC meeting, Mrs. Ho-bart called. I took the job she offered because Ben's three brothers are such great kids. Still, I was nervous. What if they were suddenly transformed like all the other formerly good boys? I decided to risk it, though.

As it turned out, the three of them were fine. Better than fine. Angels! That fact is even more amazing since it was a cold, rainy day and they were cooped up inside the house.

When six-year-old Mathew asked if we could make chocolate chip cookies, I drew in a deep breath. Cooking with kids can be a disaster if they decide not to cooperate. I didn't want to end up like Jessi, cleaning the entire kitchen. I said no, but the kids wouldn't give up.

"Please, please, please," begged four-year-old Johnny. "There's nothing to do." "Our mom won't mind," eight-year-old James pressed. "She's been promising and promising to make them, but she never has the time. The chocolate chips are right in the cabinet. I can find them." Before I could object, he was digging through the cabinet and soon produced the chips, as well as flour, sugar, and a bottle of vanilla extract.

At the same time, Mathew was hunting through the refrigerator for eggs and milk. Obviously, the boys had baked cookies before. It was pretty hard to say no to them.

So, even though it was against my better judgment, we began making chocolate chip cookies. And guess what. We had a great time! We baked some regular round cookies, and then we made some in different shapes. Each boy made one in the shape of his first initial. We even made a B cookie for Ben. He was at school that afternoon at a special meeting of the school paper.

As I watched the boys molding their cookies, I wondered why they were so different from other boys. That's when I came up with my second big theory.

Ben and his brothers are from Australia! That's why they were different. Maybe not all boys were pains, just American boys.