One of the things you never saw in Schulz's void that should have appeared was that fixture of American life known as the babysitter; had Mr Reichardt thought to pay a teenager trying to save up money for some minor purchase instead of leaving his rare gem to shift for herself, it's quite possible that instead of being a totally clueless little girl whose poor performance at school comes from her not sleeping, Peppermint Patty would be the lesser sort of mediocrity that the boy she playfully calls Chuck is. Calvin's parents are not so broke or stupid that they don't want to make sure he's left to his own devices; this desire is not, as he believes, totally because they don't trust him, it's that they don't trust the world to keep him safe. His refusal to deal with authority being imposed upon him without his consent tends to make Rosalyn's life somewhat more difficult than it would otherwise be; all she wants is for him to go to sleep after she arrives, his regular bed-time be damned so that she can do her homework and talk to her friends without having to contend with whatever his favorite shows are. Since a seven-year old simply cannot see that this young girl is testy not because she hates him but because she's responsible for his well-being and he won't listen to her, she usually has a hard time dealing with him. Eventually, though, she outsmarted him by using Calvinball to her advantage; since this happened towards the end of the strip, it tells me that she finally started to figure him out. One should think that the Rosalyn of today is telling her babysitter about the fast-talking, genius pain-in-the-neck she used to sit for and how he's some brainiac hotshot living large; one should also suspect that a certain rare gem aspires to one day be a mediocrity.