I guess the world is always crumbling, right?
Maybe that’s the healthiest way to look at things. Well, perhaps healthy isn’t the right word. The most… realistic?
Throughout human history, people have existed through world wars and natural disasters and genocides and every other terrible thing you can think of. In other words, there’s always something horrible going on. Heroes and villains are forged in times of catastrophe. The names that go down in history books. Most people, though, simply exist. They live their lives. They have children and work and eat and sleep and die.
The daily horrors and abject stupidity are more in our face now, yes, because we can inject them straight into our veins twenty-four seven via our handheld computers, but they were always there. Our time is not unique in its awfulness. Far from it. But perhaps the knowing is the hardest part? To me, it often feels like being tied down on a long, straight train track where I can see the train barrelling in my direction from miles away. It certainly makes it difficult to go about my day-to-day business. What with the ropes biting into my wrists and calamity always on the horizon.
The other day, I had what I would categorize as a peak 2025 experience. It was completely mundane, so don’t get too excited. A tiny, inconsequential moment. Still, I feel like it was informative, at least for me.
I was sitting on the couch, scrolling on Threads while my 9-year-old daughter, who had just gotten home from school, sat in the recliner watching an episode of The Baby-Sitters Club TV series on Netflix. As you might remember, we are deep into our Baby-Sitters Club era. We are on Book 15 now. Since we last talked, the poor dog Louie has died in a very graphic and devastating fashion (why did nobody warn me about this??). Stacey has moved back to New York. We solved racism. Mary Anne is dating Logan freakin Bruno!
Anyway, I was entering my afternoon scrolling death spiral—the U.S. has bombed another fishing boat in the Caribbean, the East Wing of the White House no longer exists, SNAP benefits for millions end in one week—when something on the TV screen caught my attention.
There was a middle school-aged boy sitting in a chair, reading a picture book to a group of children in what appeared to be a public library. My eyes grew wide. I tossed my toxic death spiral phone to the side and sat forward to get a better look. A boy? Reading to children??
This could only mean one thing.
“Is that… LOGAN BRUNO??” I said. Unable to contain my excitement.
My daughter gave me a quick look and then returned her gaze to the screen.
“Yes.”
“THE Logan Bruno who is Mary Anne’s future boyfriend??”
She smiled.
At this point, I should note that before this interaction, my daughter was mad at me because I had made the grave error of walking the dog to pick her up from school on a Thursday rather than driving. That was my bad, for sure, but I did feel like she was overreacting just a bit. It was nice that, once again, The Baby-Sitters Club brought us together. Much like it does every night when we read together in her comfy bed with the soft pink comforter.
I locked in on the show after that, the deteriorating world order forgotten for at least a few moments, and was absolutely delighted when Kristy said to one of her friends that her mom was “a little clueless.”
Kristy’s mom in the show is played by Alicia Silverstone of Clueless fame. It was truly an iconic moment, and seeing it made my afternoon. Maybe my life.
After the show was over, or rather, after we grew tired of the show because in the age of streaming, nothing is ever over, we moved on with our day. We played pickleball and basketball outside. The humidity has ticked down just a few notches, so it was reasonably pleasant. The boys came home from middle school. I made enchiladas for dinner. We didn’t do homework even though we were supposed to. You know, all the routine things that make up a life.
We existed.
Now, I don’t mean to imply that existing is always enough. I think we do have responsibilities. We do need to stay informed. We do need to call out injustice when we see it. We do need to help those in need (it seems like supporting local food banks is a particularly useful action right now).
But, I think we also need to remember to sometimes step back, toss the phone to the side, and when possible, just live.
Because in the face of it all, no matter how bad things get, at least we still exist. And so does The Baby-Sitters Club.
Quick updates:
My son’s arm is almost healed, and he might be cleared for activity next week. Basketball is about to be back, and that’s what really matters!
The dog is out of the cone!
I’m still going to the gym, I’ve gained about 15-20 pounds, and I am in constant pain. It’s working!
Words by me, Andrew Knott. Best known for duck… and Baby-sitters Club?
Books:
Love’s a Disaster - contemporary fiction about a marriage proposal gone wrong, complicated families, mini-golf, second-chance love, Florida, sword fighting, and punk rock music.
Fatherhood: Dispatches From the Early Years - essays and humor about the very early years of my parenting journey
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