The Babysitter's Club (Pun Intended)

At the ripe age of 13, I came upon the root of all evil in the world: money, or my personal lack thereof. With little inclination to partake in a “normal” part time job, I opted for child care. I even attended a program at the library in hopes of becoming the best babysitter in all of Chagrin Falls. As my business expanded, I realized my customer base mainly contained males. This did not surprise me, for these children seemed the easiest to entertain. Simply feed, bribe, and pit them against each other in order to lure them into sleep. I believed I had developed a fool proof method for the care of tiny men, but unfortunately my unparalleled babysitting skills had to meet their match. Let me introduce “Larry” and “Evan,” two boys aged six and five respectively. Not only do these boys scream, cry, fight, and talk back, but Evan has yet to learn how to use a toilet. He does not, however, wear a diaper. Needless to say, my frustration often hits its limits. Tonight, I found myself yet again babysitting these two tiny fiends. As I walked them upstairs, I realized that Evan had yet again wet his pants as a result of his inability to step away from a video game. After letting the child sit on my lap all night, I felt irate. But as I watched the boys fall into the humble clutches of sleep, I thought back to my AP English class’s discussion of happiness. Many espoused that a person can only find true happiness when he or she finds pleasure in the simplistic elements of life, such as surrounding oneself with family and friends, reading a good book, or listening to a good song. Who, I thought, could find anything simpler than a child? The world has not yet blinded a child from finding happiness in playing a computer game all night or reading Curious George to his or her heart’s content, making it easy to find joy. As a result of society’s image of happiness as a straightforward concept, I think we all constantly try to regress to the purity and innocence of youth. We can never really succeed, but the bliss we find in happiness brings us back to our effortless childhood. Although I often want to sprint from Larry and Evan’s house at full speed, I look fondly on their naïveté. One day they will discover the woes of the world, and they too will start on the road of regression that we all continually walk down.

The MarCATS.

As I sit down on my bed to write my second blog for AP English, I cannot help but feel a sense of discomfort. Two sets of gleaming, furry eyes lay focused on me, and their rumbling bodies purr. Yes, AP Englishers, I am a crazy cat lady. Although my house remains in balance with two dogs and two cats, I must admit that I spend the majority of my home time with my cats, Maisy and Tigger. One of my favorite discussions this year came as the discussion of jobs that we have held throughout our lives. Anna Witkin shared her tales of “cat sitting,” involving intricate joint exercises that she provided to the felines. Although I cannot say I have reached the levels of care that this cat owner extends to her pets, I do admit to caring for them just as much. Unfortunately, my family does not feel the same proclivity to Maisy and Tigger as I do. My dad often jokes about feeding each of them to circling hawks, and my brothers openly hiss whenever either walks by. They have even taught my dogs the same hatred—whenever someone ekes a “meow” from anywhere in the house, my dogs will literally BOLT in order to nose dive under my bed in search of their nemeses. I try to protect my cats, but more often than not my efforts fail, and the age-old canine versus feline battle ensues. I have noticed this same sort of protective nature evolve in certain characters of each short story we have read, even if their efforts remain equally futile as my own.  Although living through different scenarios, one thing every protector holds in common becomes how their actions prove relatively ineffective. The wife in “The Second Bakery Attack” may or may not have removed a curse. The Misfit’s gang shoots the grandmother’s family in “A Good Man Is Hard to Find”. Many citizens remain opposed to the presence of the inventor’s balloon in “The Balloon”. The police can do nothing to resurrect the old man in “The Tell-Tale Heart”. As students of AP English 12, we always put our best effort into every work we do. We may not receive our desired grade, but we can build from the experience in order to improve the next time. In order to stay true to the balloon inventor’s advice, I try not to search for too much deeper meaning in my cats. Even as I write, Tigger snores noisily and Maisy remains busy licking herself. I can only take from them the lesson of caring for something I love, ranging from my own home to my school work and beyond.