Ann Martin - Mary Anne And Too Many Babies

"Yes," I answered, "but they'll get their turns when they reach eighth grade."

I finished the last of my cookies, swept the crumbs off the table, and stood up. Dawn cleared away our napkins. (Her mother may be messy, but Dawn is neat and organized.)

"We better go," said Dawn.

"Okay. Oh, I have to feed Tigger first!" Tig-ger is my gray tiger-striped kitten. When Dad and I moved out of our house and into the

old farmhouse Dawn's mom had bought, Tig-ger came with us. He's our only pet. I love him to bits. (I thinkSharon is still getting used to him. I don't know what's taking her so long. He's absolutely adorable.)

I scooped up some kibble into Tigger's dish. Dawn looked at her watch again. "Now we really better go," she said.

"Okay. I'm ready." My sister and I left for Claudia Kishi's house.

Chapter 2.

I still feel a little funny riding my bike to Claud's. That's because I used to live across the street from her. Riding my bike from one side of the street to the other would have been sort of silly. But my new house isn't nearby. I can still run inside the Kishis' house without bothering to ring the bell, though. Kristy and I did that when we were little. (Kristy also used to live across from Claud, next door to me, but she's moved, too.) And we continue to do it. So do the rest of the members of the Baby-sitters Club (or BSC).

Dawn and I dashed upstairs and hightailed it past the door of Claud's older sister, Janine the Genius. She wasn't there, though. Then we ran into Claudia's room, picked our way over the junk on her floor, and flopped onto her bed. I was pleased to see that we were not the last club members to arrive.

"Hi, guys," Dawn greeted Claudia, Kristy, and Jessi Ramsey.

"Hi," they replied. (If we didn't sound overly enthusiastic, remember that we'd seen each other in school just a couple of hours earlier.)

Kristy Thomas was sitting in Claudia's director's chair, her visor perched on her head, a pencil stuck over one ear.

Kristy is the president. (Of BSC, I mean.)

Jessi, one of our junior officers, was leafing through the club notebook.

As I found a comfortable position on the bed, I glanced at Kristy. She was staring at Claud's digital clock. That clock is the official club timepiece, and when the numbers flip from5:29 to5:30 , Kristy begins a meeting, whether all the club members are present or not.

I guess Kristy has a right to do that. After all, she's not just the club president, she's the person who started the BSC. The club was her idea. What is the BSC? It's really a business, and a successful one. This is how it works. Three times a week — on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, from five-thirty until six — my friends and I gather in Claud's room and wait for parents to call us, needing babysitters. When a call comes in, one of us agrees to take on the job. This is great for parents.

They make one phone call and reach seven people, seven expert baby-sitters. So they're bound to line up a sitter quickly. They don't have to call one person after another, trying to find someone available.

How do parents know when to call us? How do they know when we hold our meetings? Because we advertise — you know, flyers and posters. Also because we've been in business for awhile now. We have a good reputation.

Anyway, Kristy is the president, since she started the BSC. She is overflowing with fantastic ideas. Kristy is the one who thought of keeping a club notebook, which is like a diary. Each time one of us finishes a sitting job, we're supposed to write about it in the book. Then, once a week, we read through the recent entries to find out what happened on our friends' jobs. This has turned out to be really helpful.

Kristy also came up with the idea for Kid-Kits. Every member of the club has made a Kid-Kit. A Kid-Kit is a large box that has been painted, decorated, and filled with child-appealing items — our old games, books, and toys, art supplies, activity books, and so forth. Our sitting charges just love to see us show up with our Kid-Kits. They may have the most spectacular toys ever created, but show them something new (even if it's old, it's new to the kids), and suddenly it's more interesting than

anything they own. Somehow Kristy knew that.

Kristy seems to be a natural with kids. She's certainly around them enough at her own house, although for the longest time only one of her brothers and sisters was younger than she was. Hmm — that's pretty confusing. What I mean is, Kristy's mom got remarried just like my dad, and when that happened, her family changed. A lot. When Kristy and I used to live next door to each other, her family consisted of her two older brothers, Sam and Charlie; her little brother, David Michael; and her mom. Her dad had walked out when David Michael was just a baby. Several years later, her mom began dating this guy Watson Brewer, who happens to be a millionaire. He also happens to be divorced, the father of two little kids. After Mrs. Thomas and Watson Brewer got married, the Thomases moved across town into Watson's mansion. That was when Kristy's family began to grow. The Brewers adopted Emily Michelle, the little girl from Vietnam. Nannie, Kristy's grandmother, moved in to help care for her. Plus, Watson's children, Karen and Andrew, live at their father's every other weekend. Also, they acquired a dog and two goldfish, and Watson already owned a cat.

Did I tell you that Kristy is my other best

friend? Actually, she's my first best friend, since we grew up together, and I didn't meet Dawn until the middle of seventh grade. A lot of people think Kristy and I make a pretty weird duo. That's because we're so different. Kristy is extremely outgoing and is known for her big mouth. (Well, she is.) Plus, she loves sports and even coaches a softball team for little kids. (Her team is called Kristy's Krush-ers!) I, on the other hand, am shy. I'm whatever you call the opposite of outgoing. (Ingoing? Ingrown?) I think before I speak. I'm romantic (maybe that's why I ended up with a steady boyfriend before any of the other BSC members did), I cry easily (nobody likes to go to the movies with me), and I do not enjoy sports. However, Kristy and I look sort of alike. Everyone says so. Our faces are shaped the same way, we both have brown hair and brown eyes, and we're short for thirteen. We dress differently, though. Kristy's happiest when she can just drag on a pair of jeans, a turtleneck shirt, a sweat shirt, her running shoes, and maybe a baseball cap. (Her uniform.) She never bothers with jewelry or makeup. (Well, hardly ever.) I wear clothes that are a little more trendy — as trendy as my dad will allow me to look. Mostly, I guess I'm on the preppy side. I don't have pierced ears (neither does Kristy), but I do wear jew-

elry, including clip-on earrings. And I experiment with my hair sometimes. No major dos, though. So Kristy and I are quite different. Maybe that's why we've been such good friends. We complement each other, personality-wise.

You know who's the opposite of us in almost every way? Claudia. Yet she's a good friend, too. We voted Claud the vice-president of the BSC. We thought that was fair, considering we meet in her room three times a week, mess it up (usually), take over her phone, and eat her junk food. The phone — that's another reason we hold our meetings in her room. Claud has not only her own extension, but her very own phone number. That means that when job calls come in, we don't tie up someone else's line, just Claud's. You may think Claudia's job isn't difficult. I know it sounds that way, until you realize that not everyone remembers to call the BSC during our meetings. When parents call during off-hours, Claud has to deal with those jobs.

In what ways is Claud different from Kristy and me? All right, let me see. First, she comes from a smaller, less complicated family. It consists of her parents and Janine. No pets. And Claud's interests are art, junk food, mysteries, baby-sitting, and fashion, although probably not in that order. Claudia is a fantastic artist,