Claudia and the Perfect Boy

This book opens with Claudia, she of the stunning complexion and fabulous wardrobe, being jealous of Mary Anne, world-champion crier and quiet shy girl. Claudia wants a boyfriend, and has FOMO over the ongoing Mary Anne/Logan love-fest. While Claudia does tend to meet boys every time she leaves the municipal boundaries of Stoneybrook, none of them have ever turned into anything serious, and she’s ready for a real (eighth grade) love.

Here’s Claudia’s list of qualities she’s looking for in Mr. Right (with spelling edits included):

  • Handsome
  • Muscles (not too many, not too few)
  • Taller than me
  • Funny (extremely)
  • Athletic
  • Sensitive
  • Easy to talk to (a good listener)
  • Interesting (lots to say)
  • Artistic
  • Good dresser
  • Good speller (willing to correct mine)
  • Not critical
  • Crazy about me

Good list, but seems like a lot to ask of a middle school boy. Also, how would Claudia know if someone’s a good speller? This girl literally spelled too two different ways in one sentence. I would criticize the crap out of her (in person, as well as over the internet), if she were something other than a fictional character in a decades-old children’s series.

As part of her quest for a man, Claudia proposes adding a personals column to the SMS Express, the school newspaper. In classic Stoneybrook fashion, there’s no adult supervision of this paper, and with thirteen-year-olds running the show, it’s not surprising that this kind of thing gets approved. Just as a general comment, in any real place, this would be vetoed before Claud even got the sentence out. So, the most illiterate eighth grader in history becomes a columnist for the school newspaper.

Shockingly, SMS students have no shame, and they all start writing personal ads to find dates. Claudia goes on several herself. One is with Brian, a clean-cut guy who takes her to the Rosebud Cafe. They have nothing in common. Next up is Rock, who is into Asian girls so loves that Claudia is Japanese. He’s somehow tattooed as a middle schooler, and asks to kiss her goodnight (she turns him down). She also dates Kurt, who is apparently so boring we don’t even get to hear about the date.

The b-plot of this book is tragic. We’re back to the Barrett kids, and their dog Pow. We’re made to love Pow anew, and get several scenes of the kids straight up attacking him, but he loves it and is totally gentle and nice. So of course, tragedy strikes. Marnie Barrett has developed an allergy to their beloved dog, and they need to find a new home for him. Buddy and Suzi are obviously devastated, and my heart just breaks for them. The Pikes end up adopting him, which is described as a good thing because Buddy and Suzi can still see him. But I’d probably honestly do worse with that situation, to see ‘my’ dog all the time and have him belong to someone else, rather than an out of sight, out of mind scenario.

We end with Claudia still single, but much more appreciative of all the things she does have. Anticlimactic.

Awards:

Best Insult: Claudia is whining about how she’s the only one who doesn’t have a boy. “Even Kristy has Bart. Sort of.” Way to be passive-aggressive, jerk.

Most Absurd Personal Ad: Unique, statuesque seventh-grade girl wants to get to know husky guy interested in sports and Ancient Egyptian cultures. For fun dates call Big-Boned Beauty.

Most Eighties Moment: Claudia discovers spellcheck

Most Self-Aware Moment: I LOVE art! I can’t look at a sunset without thinking about the best way to get that same effect with watercolors. But how could I write that in a letter to a guy I don’t know without sounding like a complete maniac? I didn’t want him to mark my letter, “obvious nut case,” and throw it in the trash. (Claudia tries to answer a personal)

Worst Parent: Mrs. Pike, who leaves her kids home with baby-sitters when their new pet arrives. Can this lady not show up for any of her own family occasions?

Dawn and the Impossible Three

This is the first Dawn book chronologically, meaning it’s our first chance to get into the mind of a chill vegetarian Californian, which I will admit is the complete antithesis to my carnivorous, up-tight East Coast ways. Back in the day, I loved Dawn, but now I’m much more inclined to think she’s straight up crazy. So let’s see what she’s like from her very first pages!

When the book opens, Dawn is still a Stoneybrook newbie. She became friends with Mary Anne and joined the BSC in the last book, but hasn’t fully integrated into her new clique yet. First thing we learn about her: she hates cold, and curses out the weatherman whenever he reports cold temperatures. Way to be a stereotype, Dawn! She’s getting to know Stoneybrook through the kids she baby-sits for, and meets the Pikes (which makes me understand a bit more about why she doesn’t love Connecticut), and their new friends, the Barretts. Mrs. Barrett is one of the many recent divorcees who flock to small-town Connecticut (seriously, is this a thing?), and she has three kids – Buddy, Suzi, and Marnie. Dawn scores the baby-sitting job with them, which leads to all kinds of drama for the newest BSC member.

The Barretts are a mess before their interactions with the BSC. The kids aren’t dressed properly, the house is a pigsty, and everyone is fighting. The only bright spot is Mrs. Barrett, who the entire BSC develops an immediate girl-crush on. Throughout the entire series they mention her looking like a model literally any time she comes up, but that seems to be the only thing she has going for her. Instead, she relies on a group of twelve-year-old girls to raise her kids. Dawn cleans the house, brushes the kid’s hair, teaches them about guns being dangerous, and cleans up after Suzi has an accident – and that’s all during her first sitting job!

The b-plot of this book, as a sidenote, is that with Dawn in town as Mary Anne’s new best friend, her OG BFF Kristy is feeling jealous. Dawn takes over helping Mary Anne redecorate her room, and Kristy has FOMO. I actually really feel for Kristy in this book – it must be awful to have your best friend growing apart from you, and she honestly doesn’t handle it too badly. Anyway, eventually Dawn invites Kristy over after school and they bond over being children of divorce, which leads to Kristy chilling out enough to appoint Dawn the official Alternate Officer of the BSC.

As the Schafers try to adjust to Stoneybrook, their quirky West Coast ways continue. Mrs. Schafer decides to throw a picnic, with an eclectic group of guests: her wealthy parents, who forced her to break up with Mr. Spier back in high school, Mr. Spier and Mary Anne, the Barrett family, and Kristy and David Michael Thomas. As a general comment, I would avoid this party as though my life depended on it. Mrs. Schafer wants to turn the whole town veggie, but Dawn, the voice of reason, convinces her to turn the picnic into a barbecue so that others will eat. The high drama of the picnic is Dawn’s grandparents getting reunited with Mr. Spier.

The neglectful nature of Mrs. Barrett continues. She forgets to tell Dawn the Marnie (her toddler) is allergic to chocolate. She shows up so late that Dawn misses a BSC meeting. She has no sense of her own custody arrangements with her ex-husband, which leads to the main drama of the book. Dawn is baby-sitting again, and she sends Buddy outside while she gets the girls ready. By the time she gets outside, he’s gone. Dawn freaks out, and organizes a search of the neighborhood which ends up involving the police, multiple teams of neighbors, and eventually German shepherds. As it turns out, Mr. Barrett took Buddy when he saw him outside, because scatterbrained Mrs. Barrett mixed up their custody agreement again. She seriously is the worst. She and Dawn have a classic after-school special heart to heart, and the newest BSC member joins the ranks of insufferable adolescents by saving the day yet again!

Awards:

Most Inane Sentence: Dawn tries to impress Janine by saying “Thanks to the foresight of our president it [the BSC]’s both profitable and proficient…profusely proficient.”

Worst Stoneybrook Parent: Clearly Mrs. Barrett. When your seven year old child feels more connected to his baby-sitter than he does to you, you are failing on some level.