ROBO BABY
March 14
Macy and I signed up for “infant home care certification” training at the Spooner Red Cross, and today is the day for the class! How cool and official will it be to introduce myself as “EJ Payne, infant home care professional”? (Okay, okay, it’s basically a fancy term for a babysitter, but “infant home care professional” sounds so much more legit, right?) If the teacher doesn’t give me a badge or at the very least an ID card, I might just have to make one myself to keep in my wallet so I can pull it out to impress people now and then—a photo ID framed by multicolored stars and using lots of different fonts to highlight my babysitting expertise.
CoraLee overheard Macy and me talking about the babysitting class at recess the other day, and in typical CoraLee fashion, she had to come stick her nose in our conversation and ruin it by telling us that she was signed up for the class, too.
CoraLee: Mom says it’d be a good idea for me to get certified, which I think is just plain dumb because I’ve been babysitting my little sister for six months now.
Macy: You never know, CoraLee, maybe you’ll learn something useful in class.
Me: Yeah, CoraLee, it’s probably a lot different babysitting an infant than babysitting your sister, Katy. I mean, she’s in first grade. She’s potty trained and can pretty much take care of herself, right?
CoraLee: EJ, you’ve never babysat before. Don’t talk about things you don’t know anything about.
Me: You mean Katy’s not potty trained? Well, that’s awkward.
CoraLee: Just wait till Saturday, P-A-I-N. We’ll see who makes the better babysitter!
Me: You’re on.
The description of the class on the Red Cross website says that we’ll be trained with “lifelike infant simulators.” Mom says those are probably baby dolls that have computer chips in them, and we’ll have to do things like change diapers, feed, soothe, and rock them. Truthfully, “lifelike infant simulators” sound a bit too much like robots to me. Lots of kids (my brother included) think robots are cool. I, on the other hand, do not. I don’t trust things that seem like they can think for themselves, but they don’t actually have a brain. (Transformers will take over the world someday—you heard it here first, Diary!) But if these things are cute, cuddly baby dolls, how bad could they really be?
EJ
EJ leans over the edge of the cradle and watches the sweet baby boy named Abner sleep. She slips her pointer finger in the baby’s fist and marvels at his perfectly formed, tiny fingers and fingernails. Her eyes drift to his angelic face: long eyelashes, chubby cheeks, light hair as soft as the feathers on a baby chick. She is the very best babysitter in the whole world.
Abner stirs slightly in his sleep, and a tiny pink tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth.
“What are you dreaming of, silly baby?” EJ murmurs, smiling to herself. “A giant bottle filled with warm milk?”
Abner yawns and stretches, waking up from his nap slowly. His bright green eyes, groggy at first, quickly focus on EJ’s face, and his mouth splits open in an adorably toothless grin.
“Hey there, handsome guy!” EJ picks up Abner and hugs him close, enjoying his powder-fresh smell. “Did you have a good snooze?”
“Waaaahhh-aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh. Waaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!” EJ’s babysitting dream whisked away, and she nearly dropped the screaming piece of baby-shaped rubber in her arms. She looked around the Red Cross classroom at the dozen other students going for their infant home care certification, and she realized her baby was the only one crying.
“Shh. Come on, little guy, it’s okay.” EJ tried pushing Abner’s pacifier in his mouth, but the horrible sound continued to come from the speaker somewhere on his body. It was actually pretty impressive how much sound it could put out.
EJ felt panic rise in her chest, and she looked at her classmates to see if anyone else was doing something helpful that she could try. Each student was standing at a spot along a row of long tables, interacting with an infant simulator doll and various baby supplies—diapers, blankets, bottles, toys. EJ saw Macy changing the diaper of her baby—a newborn doll named Gretchen. CoraLee was feeding a bottle to her doll—a four-month-old named Penelope. The rest of the students were older girls EJ had seen before, but they were already in middle school, and she didn’t know any of their names. EJ thought it was too bad there weren’t any boys in the class, but then she had another thought: the fewer certified babysitters there were in Spooner, the better chance she had at making some real money. (And she needed a new bike for the summer!)
“Waaaaaahhhhhh!” Abner wasn’t letting up.
“What’s wrong with you, baby?” EJ muttered. As Abner’s cry got louder, she held the wailing infant simulator at arm’s length to keep the source of the earsplitting sound as far from her ears as possible.
“EJ, use baby’s name when you talk to baby.” The voice of the instructor named Miss Debbie rose above Abner’s cries. “And don’t forget—baby needs head and neck support!”
“Oh, right. Sorry, ma’am.” EJ glanced down at her Babysitting 101 handbook to check the proper holding technique and pulled Abner to her, his head and neck resting comfortably in the crook of her arm. “There, Abner. Is that better?”
“Waaaaahhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!” Was it possible the pitch of the cry had jumped an entire octave? How much louder would it get?
“Shh. Shhhh. Hush now, Abner. I am here.” EJ began to rock the doll in a steady rhythm, hoping desperately that’s what he wanted. If Miss Debbie was already grading students on their performance, she was definitely getting some less-than-awesome marks right now.
“You’re a natural, Mace.” EJ gently bounced the screeching Abner in her arms as she walked to her friend. “How am I supposed to know if I’ll make a good babysitter with a nightmare of a kid like this?” Abner hiccupped and screamed more earnestly. “Sorry, I don’t really mean nightmare,” EJ reassured the crying doll, just in case it understood what she was saying.
“We just have to figure out what he needs, EJ.” Macy gently set the contented Gretchen in her car seat and turned to help her best friend. “May I?”
“No, I need to do it myself.” EJ raised her voice over the robo baby’s wailing. “Could you just walk me through it, please?”
“Let’s see. Diaper?”
“Clean.”
“Hungry?”
“Fed him”—EJ checked the clock on the wall—“eight minutes ago.”
“Well, he just must want to be close to you.” Macy held up her wrist where she wore a bracelet with the computer key that matched Gretchen’s computer interface. EJ wore a similar key on her wrist—for Abner. “That key on your wrist means that you’re the only one he’ll respond to.”
“You’re right, I can do this.” EJ lifted Abner’s baby-blue shirt and touched her key to the sensor on his back. His cries immediately dropped in strength and volume, and by the time she was rocking him a few moments later, his whimpering had all but stopped.
“Thank goodness.” CoraLee rolled her eyes and made sure EJ could hear the annoyance in her voice—from all the way across the room. “I think some people should realize they aren’t cut out to be babysitters.”
EJ felt heat rush to her cheeks.
“Don’t listen to CoraLee,” Macy whispered. “You’re doing fine.”
Gretchen started to cry, and Macy picked her up from the car seat. But before Macy could get Gretchen’s crying under control, Abner started to scream again.
“Here it comes, girls.” Miss Debbie was a little too excited about crying baby dolls. “The empathy cry!”
A few seconds later, the infant simulator of the student next to Macy started screaming. Then the next and the next, until every baby in the room was wailing at the top of his or her lungs—er—speakers?
… Except for CoraLee’s baby, Penelope, who lay perfectly contented in her babysitter’s arms, not making a peep. The look on CoraLee’s smug, judge-y face made it obvious to EJ that CoraLee really did think she was better than everyone else.
Even though EJ wanted nothing more than to snatch the smug look off CoraLee’s face, she knew that getting her certification was more important, so she focused her attention back on Abner.
“CoraLee, I need to check something on your infant simulator.” Miss Debbie didn’t seem to be fazed by the vortex of crying around them.
“Please, ma’am, she’s so content right now.” CoraLee rubbed the baby doll’s back gently. “I’d rather not disturb her.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure nothing could disturb Penelope right now, CoraLee.” Miss Debbie lifted Penelope’s shirt and checked the small LED display on the doll’s back. “Just as I thought. Penelope’s battery is dead.” Miss Debbie turned and walked straight to the supply closet to find a working doll for CoraLee.
“What? You can’t be serious!” With Miss Debbie otherwise occupied, CoraLee dropped Penelope onto the table in front of her and scowled at the doll. “So none of what I’ve been doing for the past thirty minutes even counts?”
“Baby needs head and neck support, CoraLee!” EJ matched her voice to be as singsongy as Miss Debbie’s. CoraLee’s eyes shot daggers at EJ, and EJ smiled brightly at CoraLee while she fed a quieting Abner a bottle.
“Here’s baby Jack for you, CoraLee.” Miss Debbie emerged from the supply closet and entered a code on the back of the roly-poly baby Jack with freckles and a cowlick that made the hair on the back of his head stand straight up. Once activated, Miss Debbie handed the baby and his computer key bracelet to CoraLee, and Jack immediately started crying like he’d been saving up all his good wailing and shrieking for months.
EJ put a contented Abner on her shoulder and patted his back until she heard a burp followed by a lovely little coo.
“There’s a good baby, Abner.” EJ adjusted the doll in her arms and smiled down at him. “See? I knew I could do it. I’ll make an excellent babysitter.”
By now, the rest of the students had been able to calm their babies down—that is, all but CoraLee’s Jack, whose cry had turned from sounding sad to frustrated to furious in a matter of moments. CoraLee’s face drained of all its color as she tried all the tricks she knew to get him to stop crying.
“Okay, girls, it’s time to learn the infant choking procedure on your babies.” Miss Debbie raised her voice above Jack’s cry.
Finally CoraLee found what Jack wanted, because his angry shrieks subsided to just pathetic whimpers. CoraLee wiped sweat from her forehead with a spare burp cloth.
Miss Debbie demonstrated the proper technique for first aid on a choking infant by placing a spare doll facedown on her arm. (“Head and neck support, girls!” she said.) Then she used the heel of her hand to hit the doll on the back until the airway was cleared.
“Now you try.” Miss Debbie walked around the room with her clipboard, making notes as she observed students.
EJ made sure that she was doing every step exactly the way Miss Debbie showed them. “Excellent work, EJ.” Miss Debbie smiled at her and made a note on the clipboard. “Ten out of ten on this one.”
EJ propped Abner’s head on her shoulder and held him with one arm as she flipped through her babysitting handbook, reviewing the things Miss Debbie said would be on the written test, while the rest of the class continued to practice with the dolls.
“Okay, CoraLee, your turn.” EJ looked up to see Miss Debbie grading CoraLee’s infant choking procedure. CoraLee confidently placed the baby facedown on her arm. (Even EJ had to admit she did a great job supporting Jack’s head.) Then she quickly and efficiently began giving back blows. “Very good!” Miss Debbie smiled. But on the fifth thump, Jack’s head flew away from his body like a rocket ship blasting off. The softball-sized, brown-haired, brown-eyed object arced through the air—seemingly in slow motion—spinning so fast that it almost made EJ dizzy.
With the reflexes of a much younger woman, Miss Debbie dodged the projectile head.
CoraLee gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, horrified.
EJ watched, speechless, as the head hit the floor and rolled toward her, under tables, and past other students, coming to rest inches from her toes. Some of the older girls burst into laughter and pointed at CoraLee.
EJ picks up the doll head and shakes her head in mock sadness.
“Poor little Jack,” she says with a pout in her voice. “What did you ever do to Miss CoraMean to deserve this?”
EJ tosses the head to CoraLee and smirks. “Some people should realize they aren’t cut out to be babysitters.”
EJ tried to suppress a grin that tickled the corners of her mouth. Even though it was just in a daydream, giving CoraLee a taste of her own medicine felt pretty good. Cradling Jack’s head in her free hand, she walked across the room and held it out toward an embarrassed CoraLee, red-faced and on the verge of tears.
“Don’t worry,” EJ quietly assured CoraLee. “I’m not an expert babysitter yet, but I’m pretty sure the heads don’t actually come off.”
CoraLee took the head from EJ, her eyes still threatening to spill tears.
“And I know you’re a good babysitter,” EJ said quietly. “So don’t let a crazy robo baby make you think you’re not.”
“Yeah, okay.” CoraLee’s face softened a bit, and her eyes dried. “Thanks, EJ. You will probably make an okay babysitter, too.”
That might be the nicest thing she’s ever said to me, EJ thought. I’ll take it.